


I Know You

by twdsunshine



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2018-05-03
Packaged: 2019-03-19 02:44:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 33
Words: 76,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13695237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twdsunshine/pseuds/twdsunshine
Summary: When the reader and her group are rescued by the Saviors and taken to join the community at the Sanctuary, she finds herself face-to-face with someone from her past.  But Negan, the Saviors’ fearsome leader, isn’t the same man that she remembers.  Can she find any trace of the person she knew all those years ago, or is he gone for good?





	1. Chapter 1

The pounding of your heart echoed in your ears as you surveyed the chaos that had descended around you.  Walkers feasting, tearing flesh from bone, blood and gore dripping from their elongated jaws.  Screams of the wounded, of the bitten, as they staggered towards you, their eyes pleading as they implored you to help them, despite knowing it was already too late.  Everything that you had worked so hard to build, the people you had called your family, devastated and destroyed.  You were balanced precariously on the roof of your jeep, one of just three of your group left alive, although the corpses crowding around your feet, clawing at the air as they reached for you, promised that you wouldn’t stay that way for long if you didn’t think of a way out of this mess.

‘Any ideas?’  You turned to your remaining companions, already knowing that there was no solution, but feeling the need to ask, just in case.  Their pale, panicked faces brought no answers, and you kicked out as you felt a bony hand brush against your ankle.  'Shit.’

‘We could jump,’ Logan suggested, running a bloodied hand through his hair, leaving the dirty blonde tinged with red.  'Make a run for it.  We’re gonna die if we stay here.  At least that might give one of us a chance.’

‘What?’  Mandy screeched, flinging her head round to stare at him in horror, her coppery ponytail whipping through the air before settling over her shoulder.  'One of us?  No!  That isn’t happening!’

‘If two of us go down, the walkers will be kept busy and the other one could get away!  I don’t see any other option at this point, do you?’

‘And which two do you propose make the sacrifice, huh?  You thinking of offering yourself up for this one, Logan?’

‘Guys!’ you shouted, bringing their argument to an abrupt halt as you felt the jeep shift beneath you under the weight of the gathering undead.  'We do not have time for this!’

‘Maybe they’ll just get bored and wander off,’ Mandy offered, weakly, lowering her head when Logan shot her a look of disdain.  

‘That isn’t gonna happen the whole time they can smell fresh meat,’ he sneered, becoming aggressive in the face of his imminent demise.

'Mandy, Logan might be right about this one.’  You reached for her hand, squeezing it tightly.  'These things are gonna have this car over before long and then we’re all dead.  If we all jump at once, maybe more than one of us will make it.  Like he said, if we don’t, we’re gonna die before nightfall anyway.’

'I… I don’t know if I can-’

'You can.’  You grasped her chin, forcing her to meet your eyes.  'You can do this, Mandy.  Once you’re through, make a break for the trees.  Do you remember the way to mall?’  

There was a shopping mall maybe 5 or 6 miles away from the group’s camp.  In the early days you’d all made multiple runs out there, depleting it of its supplies until there was nothing left.  It was essentially useless to you now, and crawling with walkers in the lower levels, but it was the first place that came to mind when searching for a rendezvous point.  

You waited for her to nod slowly before continuing.  'If we get separated, we’ll meet there, okay?’

The jeep gave another groan as the walkers jostled for space, shoving against it as they fought for access to the only remaining food in the vicinity.  

'We’ve gotta do this, now!’  Logan shouted, his voice tinged with fear.  'I’ll take this side.  The crowds denser and I’ve got more muscle behind me to shove through.  Y/N, you go off the back.  Mandy, you take the other side, okay?’

You felt the group collectively inhale deeply as you nodded in acknowledgement of his instructions.

'Right.  On my count.  1, 2-’

As you moved to throw yourself from the back of the jeep, a volley of gunfire from the direction of the forest halted you in your tracks as you scanned the treeline for any sign of the shooter.  The rumble of a vehicle approaching drew your eyes to the steep track that led down into the campsite, and you raised a hand to shield your eyes as a large truck edged down the slope, several men in the back, their rifles trained on the walkers that immediately turned towards it, drawn by the noise of the engine.

Another barrage of bullets ripped through the air, bodies dropping to the ground as the newcomers thinned out the herd.  

A head appeared through the drivers side window of the truck as it rolled to a stop, dark hair receding above a friendly lined face, a bright smile topped by a thick moustache. 

'Well, hey there, folks!’ he called, his voice deep and jovial.  'You look like you’re in a spot of bother over there!’

You were too stunned to speak, especially when he slammed a hand down on the outside of his door and raised his voice even further as more walkers began to stumble towards him.  'Right, here’s what we’re gonna do.  On the count of three, my boys here are gonna unleash merry hell on these sorry sons o’ bitches.  If you know what’s good for you, I’d suggest y'all throw your asses off of that damn roof and get 'em into the back of this truck so I can get us all the hell outta here.  How’s that sound?’

All you could do was nod dumbly, relieved when Logan called out an agreement, saving you the need to form words.  

'Alrighty then,’ he thumped again on the door of the truck, revving the engine as he began a loud and unhurried countdown.

'1…

2…

3!’

On his signal, shots echoed through the valley, the walkers both drawn to the noise and brought down by the bullets.  You watched as Logan crouched to jump to the ground, reaching out a hand to help Mandy, as you too leapt from the roof of the car.  You went down on the side of your ankle, pain shooting up your leg, but forced yourself to keep moving towards the men with the guns, hot on Logan’s heels as he rounded the truck and hauled himself up into the back of the vehicle.  One of the men who’d been shooting paused to lean down and offer his hand to you, easily hoisting you up beside him, as Logan did the same for Mandy.  As soon as you were all in and settled, someone pounded on the roof, and the driver put his foot down, wheeling the truck around and tearing back up the hill to safety.

 

* * *

 

You’d been moving for what seemed like hours, your hair catching in the breeze and billowing out like a sail as you watched the ground you’d passed over stretch out behind you.  The sun was beginning to set, and the trees surrounding you cast dark shadows on the road, creating imaginary monsters in the eerie twilight.  Your mind was reeling, unable to comprehend the losses that you’d suffered.  The camp had seemed so secure, hidden away at the bottom of a valley, far enough away from the nearest towns to be isolated but near enough that supply runs were achievable in daylight hours, makeshift fences built with anything they’d had to hand.  Your numbers had swelled, men, women and children from different walks of life all coming together to survive, and now all that remained were three of you.

Logan was the strong one.  He took the lead on most of the runs, dealt with any stray walkers that wandered into the camp, and went out hunting for food, lugging back hefty deer over his broad shoulders when he’d been successful.  He wasn’t the leader, shying away from the responsibility of decision-making, but he was highly respected within the group, and it was generally acknowledged that he was the one keeping you all alive for the most part.  You’d been on runs with him in the past, and you had a fairly amiable relationship, but he wasn’t someone you would have considered a friend.

Mandy definitely wasn’t a friend.  The two of you were chalk and cheese, too different to rub along together without a certain amount of friction.  You found her irritating, her constant desire to please and lack of any sort of independence, and didn’t understand the step back she’d taken as the group had grown, choosing to stay at the camp and do menial tasks rather than put herself at risk to enhance their people’s chance of survival.  Her own survival up to this point seemed to be entirely due to fluttering her eyelashes at those more capable than her, and it made you cringe internally.  In fact, her disagreement with Logan on the roof of the jeep was the first sign you’d seen that she was actually in possession of a backbone at all.  It was that that had led you to be kind to her, to reach out to embolden her to make the jump and take her chances with the two of you.  She wasn’t someone that, as a rule, you’d have chosen to be stuck with.     

You had always found yourself as kind of a loner.  By your own admission, you were not a people person, and although you mucked in with everybody else during the day, you tended to choose to spend your evenings alone, revelling in the quietness of solitude.  You’d trained as a teacher, several years before the world had gone to hell, working in schools first with older kids then with the younger ones when you’d realised this was your strength, and found that you were more comfortable around the children in the group than the adults.  You’d spent a lot of time with them, trying to find ways to continue their education, to encourage them to learn, and it was their loss that cut you most deeply.  You felt guilty and useless for not being able to help them, seeing their little hands reaching out to you as the walkers closed in, their innocent faces full of terror and confusion.  You hadn’t realised that you were clenching your fists until you felt your nails bite into your palms, drawing blood which you quickly wiped away on the legs of your jeans.

You realised the truck was slowing, juddering to a halt at the side of the road, as the driver climbed out, slamming the door behind him.

He lowered the tailgate of the truck, taking a few paces backwards to survey your little group, huddled miserably in one corner.

'We all okay?’ he asked, his eyes searching, concerned, raking over your body, you realised, in search of bites.  

'Yeah,’ you managed to speak at last, your voice husky from all of the shouting earlier on.  'Yeah, we’re good.’

'Good.’  He nodded, satisfied that you were all unhurt, then placed his hands on his hips.  'Well then, this is where you have a decision to make.’

Waiting for him to continue, you snuck a glance at Logan and saw distrust writ over his face.  

'Now, we have a community not far from here called the Sanctuary.  It’s safe, protected.  We have people and we have supplies for all, and means of getting more.’  He paused to see if any of you would question him, before going on when you remained silent.  'I can take you back with me, and you can join us.  It would mean following a strict set of rules, being assigned a job and working for points to earn your keep.  Or, I can let you go now and you can go off and fend for yourselves, though, as I notice that not one of you has anything other than the clothes on your back at this point, I wouldn’t recommend it.’

'The rules you mentioned,’ Logan spoke up.  'What are they?’

'Nothing untoward,’ the driver insisted, spreading his hands as he shrugged.  'They’re simple and easy to remember.  The Sanctuary is more than a community, it’s a way of life, and it’s a damn good life.’

'What’s the catch?’ Your voice shook as you quizzed the man in front of you, feeling unnerved by the way he spoke about his home, though you couldn’t quite place what it was that was giving you a bad vibe.  'It sounds too good to be true.’

'Ahh, you’re a clever one, I can tell,’ he smiled, pointing a finger at you.  'I’m not gonna lie to you, it can be a tough ride.  Some jobs are better than others and, if you fall short, there are repercussions.  It’s the start of the new world order!  We’ve got a tough leader who insists on high standards, and he’s not afraid to hand out punishments when they’re needed, to set examples.’  

'Punishments?’ you pushed, wanting more detail, but the driver just smiled at you inanely and nodded, refusing to be drawn any further.  

You bent your head towards Logan, whispering in his ear, 'What do we do?’

'I don’t think we’ve got a choice,’ he breathed, barely audible, his eyes fixed on Mandy who was staring vacantly at the man behind the truck, no opinion to offer on the matter.  'He’s right.  We won’t survive the night right now.  We don’t have a weapon between us.’

'I’ve got my gun,’ you argued, feeling the reassuring chill of the cool metal pressed against the skin of your back where it was tucked into the waistband of your jeans.  

'Yeah,’ Logan conceded.  'But has it got any ammo in it?’

Sighing, you shook your head, trying to suppress the shiver than ran down your spine as Logan looked up to address the driver again.  'We’re in.’

The man nodded, a satisfied smile spreading over his face as he rubbed his fingers over his moustache, smoothing it down over his grinning mouth.  'That’s what I wanted to hear.’

With a resounding clang, he snapped the tailgate back into place and disappeared back round to the front of the vehicle, the engine roaring into life moments after the door slammed shut.

As the truck pulled away, you couldn’t help but think that you’d made a huge mistake, and that somehow there was no going back from this.  The men around you had remained silent throughout the journey, only increasing your sense of unease, though now that you’d agreed to join their community, a couple offered you tentative smiles, though they quickly looked away when you didn’t return the gesture.  Your stomach was tying itself in knots over the unknown into which you were about to walk, and you thought you might be sick with every bump in the road that the truck bounced over.  You were almost relieved when it finally came to a halt after pulling through a set of heavy metal gates that had swung open to grant it access, but your fear peaked as you took in the high fences, walkers chained to the wire, groaning quietly in the encroaching darkness.  

'What is that?’  You nudged Logan, nodding towards the captive corpses, but he just shrugged.

'Protection, I guess.’

'Funny, I don’t feel particularly safe right now.’

As you hopped down from the truck, your ankle sent a spasm of pain shooting through you, a reminder of your awkward jump from the jeep a few hours ago.  Logan, obviously noticing your discomfort, caught you under your arm, letting you lean some of your weight on him as you limped around to meet the driver who had descended from the cab and hollered for your attention.

'I know you’re all pretty damn tired after all of the excitement today, but I’ve radioed our good leader to announce our arrival, and he wants to meet with you before dinner.’

At your huff of frustration - all you really wanted at that moment was food and sleep, and maybe a painkiller if they had one to spare - he raised his eyebrows at you, giving you a pointed look.  'You should feel flattered.  He doesn’t make a point of meeting all new arrivals, so you’re honoured, really.’

'Colour me thrilled,’ you muttered under your breath as you turned and followed him into the towering concrete building before you, your comrades close behind, with a couple of the men from the truck bringing up the rear.

You were led into a large open room, empty of furniture or people, cold and devoid of comfort, with a long metal elevated catwalk spanning its width, in the middle of which was a tall shadowy figure, his back turned to you as you entered.  You felt a nudge at the small of your back as the men guided you into a line, then a pressure on your shoulder as you were pushed to your knees.  

'We kneel for our leader,’ the driver explained, taking a knee himself, as the mystery man began to turn.  

'Welcome to the Sanctuary,’ a low gravelly voice boomed from above, as he moved into the light, revealing tanned skin, slicked back hair and a salt and pepper beard bordering an easy, confident smile.  Your breath hitched in your throat as recognition hit you like a lightning bolt, sending your mind reeling again as the leader began to descend down the steps towards the group, a barbed-wire adorned baseball bat swinging from his fingers.  

You knew him, or had known him, before.  Memories rushed through your brain, a private slideshow in fast-forward: the taste of whiskey, the blurred words of textbooks long pored over, and that voice whispering in your ear.  He had changed, he was older now, the grey at his temples and in his facial hair a new addition that only enhanced his good looks, but it was undoubtedly him, and you found yourself bowing your head to avoid meeting his eyes as your cheeks began to colour.  Of all the communities in the world that you’d had to get tangled up with, what were the chances that it would be his?

The man now standing before you cleared his throat, and you couldn’t help but glance up to sneak a peek of his handsome face in closer proximity, stifling a gasp as you found his eyes boring into yours, smooth chocolate irises hypnotising you as time stood still.  It was only when he turned his penetrating stare to Mandy that you realised that you’d been holding your breath.  It shook you that he still had that affect on you after all this time, his name reverberating around your brain.  

 _Negan_.  


	2. Chapter 2

_Before…_

You tripped nervously up the front steps of the rundown townhouse, heaving your bulging suitcase after you and cursing when it hit the ridge of the top stair and flipped round, making it impossible to drag any further without struggling to right it.  Instead, you abandoned it, straightening your shirt and tugging at the waistband of your jeans to ensure they weren’t sitting too low, before taking a deep breath and rapping your knuckles against the wooden door.

It was early morning, a week before the start of the new semester, and the day you were moving in to your new home.  As you were only studying part-time, giving yourself enough free hours to work an almost full-time job to pay your tuition, most of your original college friends had graduated already, leaving you pretty much high and dry when it came to paying your rent, so you’d been forced, once again, to seek out a room in another house-share, although this one, for the first time, would be with strangers.  You’d met one of them, a sweet girl called Polly, when you’d come to view the place, but the others were a mystery, so it was with growing unease that you stood and waited for someone to open the door.

When you were granted access, it was a by tall, lithe man, older than you would’ve expected in student digs, clad in grey tracksuit bottoms and a white t-shirt, soaked through with sweat.  He ran a slender-fingered hand through his dark slicked back hair as he waited for you to speak, his eyes flicking between you and your stranded case.  

You swallowed nervously, wetting your lips with your tongue before you stepped forward and reached out a hand.

‘Hi!  I’m Y/N.  I’m your new housemate.  I’m supposed to be moving in today.’  When he didn’t speak, you continued to babble nervously as his expression grew increasingly bemused, your hand falling back to your side.  'I’m sorry it’s so early.  I know students don’t tend to do early, but I’ve got a shift at work in a couple of hours, and I wanted to get settled before I had to head out.  Actually, this house is kinda perfect, cos I work at Lennon’s, y'know, just down the street.’  You raised a hand to gesture lamely in the general direction of the dive bar on the corner, finally pausing for breath as the face of the man in the doorway broke into a wide smile.

‘Well, come the fuck in then.’  He stepped back to allow you to move past him, thrusting his arm out to welcome you.  'Make yourself at home, doll.  I’m Negan.’

'Erm, thanks.’  You stepped inside awkwardly, thrown off a a little by his language and loud, booming tone.  'If I could just grab a key, I’ll bring my stuff in from the car.’

He used one long finger to hook a key from the small table beside the door, leaning close to you as he reached for it, before dangling it in front of your face.  'Need a hand?’

'Actually, yeah,’ you nodded, acknowledging that it would take you forever to drag it all inside yourself.  'If you don’t mind, that would be great.’

'After you then.’  Once again, he stepped back out of your way, goosebumps raising on your skin as you brushed against his arm to get out of the door.  

'So, where is everyone?’ you asked, scrabbling for conversation as he hoisted your suitcase up like it weight next to nothing, depositing it in the hallway, before jogging back out to meet you by your car.  'There are… 6 people living here, right?’

'Including you, yeah.’  He wrapped his arms around a couple of boxes stacked in your trunk, lifting them easily as you shouldered your backpack and dragged a holdall out of the backseat.  'They’re all still asleep, lazy fuckers.  I’m usually up early.  I like to get a run in before class, and my body clock can’t tell whether or not the semester’s actually fucking started yet apparently.’

'What are you studying?’

'Teaching.  I’m thinking about teaching gym so I’m taking classes in sports science as well at the moment.  How about you, doll?’

'Teaching too, actually.’  You’d reached the house again now, turning to press the button on your keys to lock your car, before following him inside and up the narrow staircase, the wooden boards creaking under your feet.  'But I’m not really sure what I wanna teach yet.’

'Well, if you go for the young'uns, you can teach a bit of everything, right?  Isn’t that how it usually works?’

You sighed, as you rounded the corner at the top of the first flight of stairs and watched him begin his ascent of the next flight that climbed to the second floor.  

'Yeah, I guess.  I don’t really know if I’d be that good with, like, little kids, though.  I guess I don’t really know what I want to do.’

'Well, you’re pretty young yourself.’  He tilted his head to one side as he turned his head to run his eyes over you appraisingly, his gaze lingering over the curve of your hips in a way that made your face heat up.  'You’ve got all the time in the world to figure it all out.’

'True, I suppose.  What about you?  I mean, you don’t look…’  You trailed off, realising that what you’d been about to say may sound rude.

He grinned at you as he shouldered open the door to your new room, chuckling deep in his throat.  'I don’t look young enough to be a student, huh?’

'Sorry, I didn’t mean-’

'Ahh, don’t worry about it, doll.  I’m not that easily offended.  Plus, you know what they say about older men…’  He smile widened as he winked at you suggestively, his tongue running over his bottom lip as you felt yourself flush an even deeper red, sure now that he was flirting with you shamelessly.  When you dropped your gaze to the floor, he went on.  'I’m a fucking mature student or whatever you wanna call it.  Been working in sales for a while now  but, honest to fuck, it’s the most boring damn job in the world.  Figured I’d retrain, do something a little more challenging, and what’s more challenging than trying to teach a bunch of little shitheads some damn discipline, right?’

'Right,’ you agreed, following him into your room and dumping your bags on the edge of the double bed, whilst he lowered the boxes onto a rickety wooden chair beside the small wardrobe in the corner.  

'Anyway, I’ll go grab your case and leave you to unpack.  I don’t know how much Poll showed you when you came to view the place, but there’s only two rooms on this floor - yours and mine across the hall.  Bathroom’s on the floor below, but watch the shower 'cause the hot water is fucking erratic as shit.  There’s three bedrooms down there too, then one more at the bottom, next to the living room.  Kitchen’s at the back.’

You nodded slowly, processing his quick rundown as he turned to leave, calling a hurried, 'Thanks!’ at his retreating back.

You flopped down on to the bed, exhaling deeply as you threaded your fingers into your hair, picturing the way he’d run his eyes over your body in the hallway, the hunger buried beneath his expression.

 _No, Y/N,_  you chided yourself.   _Do not do this.  Do not get a crush on your housemate on the first damn day._

The thud of footsteps on the stairs alerted you to his imminent return and you forced yourself to your feet, unzipping your holdall, and beginning to pull out the contents, placing it in neat piles on to the bare mattress.

'Here you go,’ his voice sounded from behind you, the sound of the heavy case being dropped to the ground vibrating through the floor.  By the time you’d turned round, he had already disappeared into the room across the hall, his door closing behind him with a quiet click.

 

* * *

_Now…_

Your knees were growing sore against the cold, concrete floor as you watched Negan, your new leader, tower over you.  He’d studied each of you in turn, invisible cogs whirring inside his head, as he took in the latest additions to this community.  

'Good job, Simon.’  He nodded at the driver kneeling beside you, before addressing your small group again.

'I’m Negan.  I run shit around here and I have rules that I expect my people to follow to the fucking letter.  If you don’t follow my rules I will shut that shit down, no exceptions.  Do you understand?’

You could see Logan and Mandy nodding dumbly beside you, but you were still too shocked to move, drawing attention to yourself with your lack of response.

Negan stopped his pacing, dropping into a low crouch in front of you and leaning into your face.

'I said, do you understand?’ he growled as your eyes met his, searching for any trace of recognition but finding none.  'I’m gonna need you to fucking answer me, doll.’

Everything about him was familiar.  His scent, the dimples at the corner of his mouth, his deep, gravelly drawl.  

'Yes,’ you whispered, finally finding your voice.  'Yes, I understand.’

He nodded, pushing himself back to his feet, as a door over in the far corner of the room opened and a thin man entered, his face hidden by his straggly blonde hair.

'Now,’ Negan continued.  'Dwighty-boy here is going to show you to your rooms, and in the morning you will be given the grand tour and told your job assignments.  We work to earn our keep around here, is that fucking clear?’

'Yes.’  This time you chorused along with the others, watching as Negan gestured for Dwight and Simon to join him a few metres away, the three of them talking together in hushed voices, glancing over at your group now and then.  

You took the opportunity to study the room you were in in more detail, a large fire place over at one side with a chimney that obviously drew the smoke up and out of the building, several doors leading off in various different directions, and the walkway, with steep staircases leading up to it in each corner, as well as one descending more gradually into the central space.  You wondered what it was used for - meetings perhaps - and figured that you would find out soon enough.  

When you returned your gaze to the men huddled a short distance away, your breath hitched in your throat as you found Negan’s eyes on you, hope flaring in your chest at the thought that maybe he did remember you after all, but then he was looking away, turning his back and leaving the room without another word.


	3. Chapter 3

At his instruction, you made to follow Dwight as he went to lead you, Logan and Mandy out of the room, but a hand on your arm stopped you, keeping you in place as the others filed out of the door.  You turned to see Simon beside you, his face a blank mask as he shook his head.

‘Not you, sweetheart.  You’re coming with me.’

‘What?  Why?’

He shrugged, releasing his grip on your elbow.  'I don’t ask questions.  I just do as I’m told.  You’d do well to learn to do the same.’

You sighed, but let him lead you up the metal staircase, your boots clanging with every step, the sound echoing through the empty room.  When you’d reached the top, he turned left and led you along the catwalk to a door at the end, which in turn led into a long, gloomy corridor.  You shivered as you shadowed his stride, though whether it was from the cold or from fear you weren’t quite sure.  You turned one corner, then another, climbing more stairs as your ankle protested, and still not seeing another person, although the tinkling sound of girly laughter filtered out from behind one of the doors you passed, evidence that there was more human life somewhere in this soulless place.

You finally stopped in front of a non-descript door, and Simon made a show of flinging it open and ushering you inside.

‘Your room, m'lady.’

You stepped forward tentatively, letting out a gasp of surprise as you took in the furnishings.

A small double bed was pushed into one corner, a plush duvet covering the mattress, dressed in a dark purple to match the puffed up pillows that sat at the top against the wall.  There was a small bedside table beside it, a dark mahogany like the bigger chest of drawers that stood against the opposite wall, and the small square table that sat beside the one window in the room, bordered by two high-backed chairs.  On this table was a plate of bread, with what looked like assorted salad leaves and cheese.  There was another door beside the drawers which, when you pushed it open, revealed a basic but clean ensuite, complete with toilet, basin and shower.

‘Wow,’ you breathed, unaccustomed to this kind of luxury after so long camping in the valley.  'This is… too much.  Does everyone have a room like this?’

He shuffled awkwardly, but met your eyes with his own stern gaze.  'Remember what I said about not asking questions.’

When you refused to look away, puzzling over his avoidance of the question, he continued.  'You missed dinner but the kitchen rustled up a snack for you.  Breakfast starts at seven.  I’ll collect you from your room and take you down there, give you the tour on the way.’

You’d moved over towards the plate of food, your stomach growling, but you were wary.  'How many points will I owe for this exactly?  Am I gonna end up in debt before I even get started?  How does that work?’

Simon cleared his throat, avoiding your gaze as he contemplated your query.  'You won’t be working for points.’

'I won’t?  I thought everyone worked for points.’

'Not everyone.  Most people.  But I have been informed that you are to be given a generous allowance without condition.’

'I don’t understand.’

'And I don’t ask.’  He was backing towards the door now, anxious to get away.  'I’ll leave you to eat and get some rest.  Towels are in the chest if you want a shower, and there should be some clothes in there for you too.  I’ll see you in the morning, seven A.M. sharp!’

He was out of the room before you could respond, the door clicking shut behind him with an alarming finality.  Your mind reeled as you tried to process what he had told you.  He’d basically just backtracked on everything you’d been told about the way the Sanctuary functioned so far, and the only logical reason you could come up with was that Negan had in fact recognised you after all, but you knew his poker face had never been that good.  You wondered where Logan and Mandy were, and whether their digs were as comfortable as yours.  Although you hadn’t been close to either of them, you now felt horribly alone without them by your side.

You sank down on the bed with your head in your hands as the events of the day overwhelmed you, and you felt your body begin to shake as all of your adrenaline seeped away, big fat tears rolling down your face and dripping into your lap.  Just three of the people that had woken up that morning in camp were still alive.  How was that even possible?  

You pictured Abbie, your best friend, someone you’d been running with from almost the very beginning, her hands trembling as blood poured from a vicious bite mark on her neck.  Your only consolation was that you’d been able to put her out of her misery, to ensure she wouldn’t come back as one of those things.  

Then there was Martine, an elderly Dutch lady who’d grumbled away in a language that none of you could really understand, but could whip up a decent meal out of anything that was put in front of her.  She’d understood your need to be alone perhaps better than anyone else, and she’d taken you under her wing, clucking around you like a mother hen and trying to sneak you extra rations, 'to put some meat on those bones!’  You’d lost track of her in the fray, so didn’t even know how she’d met her end.  You hoped it had been quick.

And, of course, the children, especially little Jessica and Julian, the blonde-haired, blue-eyed twins with the appearance of angels and the cheeky mischievous streak of little devils.  You’d had a real soft spot for those two, and would often crawl into their tent at night and tell them fairy stories until well past their bedtime.  There hadn’t been enough left of them for there to have been any chance of them coming back.

You cried it out, all of your grief and fear and confusion, huge sobs wracking your body as your face contorted into a mask of misery, and when you were done, you climbed into the shower - actual running water albeit pretty cold - and scrubbed every inch of your body clean, until your skin was red and shiny.  It was almost like a cleansing experience, and when you wrapped yourself in your towel, all you could think about was climbing into bed, that soft, springy, cosy bed which just begged you to sandwich yourself between its sheets and sink into oblivion.  Everything else could wait until tomorrow.

 

* * *

 

You woke early, stretching your aching muscles and taking in your surroundings dazedly, the room lit by the early morning sunlight streaming in through the window.  Your stomach was twisting with hunger, so you gingerly climbed out of the bed, wrapping the cover around yourself and testing your weight on your ankle, stiff and sore from being still all night.  The food that had been left for you was still untouched.  You hadn’t gotten round to eating it before you crashed out and, although the bread was a little stale, it was enough to curb your immediate need as you dropped into one of the chairs beside the table and picked at it, nibbling the crust.  You wondered what the time was, conscious that Simon was coming for you at 7, trying hard to keep your focus on the present, unwilling to let your mind wander back to yesterday.

You were still reeling from the knowledge that you had somehow been taken into a community led by Negan.  It had blindsided you last night.  You weren’t sure whether you should have said something, greeted him like an old friend, but you hadn’t left things on the best terms all those years ago, and it would have compromised your position had he rejected your attempts to build bridges.  Had he recognised you?  You still didn’t know.  You figured only time would tell, but it was killing you knowing that he was somewhere in the building, and that you couldn’t go to him.  

Sighing, you leant your head back against the concrete wall, shivering at the chill it sent through you as your bare shoulders met the cold surface.  Yesterday morning everything had been so easy, and now your head was all over the place: grief, nostalgia and fear combining into a feeling of being completely overwhelmed.  Deciding that only action was going to calm your agitated state, you dressed quickly, rummaging in your drawers and finding a clean pair of jeans more or less the right size, and a tank top with a small hole near the hem, which was a little too big.  Pulling on your boots, you decided to head out and try to find Logan and Mandy, sure that seeing familiar faces from your group would make you feel better.  You were sure you could catch up with them, make sure they were okay and still be back by seven.

Hauling open your door, you were brought up short by Simon standing there, leaning against the wall opposite and thumbing through a worn paperback.

'What the-’

'Good morning, sunshine!’  He closed his book and folded his arms, raising an eyebrow at your unexpected appearance.  'What’s got you up and at 'em this early in the day?’

You shifted uncomfortably, kicking the toe of your boot against the ground.  'I woke up and thought I’d see if I could find the others, y'know, the people you brought in with me.  I was feeling a little… squicky, and I just wanted-’

'Well now, you can’t just go wandering around here like you own the place.  You’re new!  You coulda gotten lost!  It can be kind of a maze in here if you don’t know where you’re going.’

'What are you doing out here, anyway?’ you challenged him.  'Have you been out here all night?’

'Nah,’ Simon reassured you, before continuing.  'I just relieved the night shift about a half hour ago.  Mighta been what woke you up.’  

'Night shift?  You’re actually guarding my room?’

'No, sweetheart.’  He stepped towards you, laying a hand on your shoulder as he turned you to the left and started to guide you along the corridor.  'I’m guarding you.’

You shuddered at the idea that you were being watched constantly, wondering if it was normal to treat all newcomers this way.  It didn’t seem like the best use of resources, but as you didn’t fully understand the way that the Sanctuary operated yet, you decided not to question Simon any further for now.

Your tour was a whistle-stop rundown of community life, as he showed you the canteen where breakfast and dinner were served daily, and where you went to town on a plate of scrambled eggs as soon as seven o'clock rolled around, and the marketplace, a long room filled with rows and rows of stalls, vendors peddling their wares as people wandered the aisles, browsing for goods worth parting with their hard-earned points.  Outside, there was a large garden that looked as if it were in the early stages of development, little sprouts of vegetation pushing their way up through the freshly turned soil, and several big trucks like the one you’d arrived in.  He explained the points system, outlining the average earnings of a worker and how they might trade them for food, goods or services, though it sounded to you that those on the bottom rung of the Sanctuary ladder would barely made enough to survive.

'It’s economics,’ Simon had said when you asked him about this as you crossed the courtyard, heading back towards the building.  'It’s how the world’s always worked.’

'It doesn’t seem very fair.’

'Life ain’t fair, sweetheart.’

When you changed the subject to Logan and Mandy, he glossed over your questions, refusing to take you to them, which only heightened your sense of unease.  

'They’re all I have left, Simon.  I need to see them.  I need to know they’re okay.’

'Trust me, they’re okay,’ he smirked, before quickly neutralising his expression when he caught your glare.  'I reckon they’ve probably just been given their job assignments and are getting down to work about now.  You can see them later on.’

'So, they’ve got to work for points?’

'Yep.’

'And I don’t?’

'Nope.’

'Why?’

'Oh, Y/N, you just aren’t getting this whole not questioning things thing, are you?’

'Do you know why?’

He halted his long strides, almost causing you to run into the back of him as you struggled to keep up.  

'Look, I told you, I don’t ask.  All I know is you aren’t to work for points, and I’ve gotta babysit you all day long because it’s not like there aren’t a hundred other more important things I could be doing right now, okay?’  He exhaled heavily, rubbing a hand over his moustache as his expression grew weary.  'I’ve been working with Negan for a long time now, in fact, I’ve known him a lot damn longer than anyone else in here, but that doesn’t mean he explains his every decision to me.  I do as I’m told, and I get certain privileges, and that’s all I ask.  Do you understand me?’

'Yeah,’ you muttered.  'Yeah, I get it.  Sorry, I guess.’

'Don’t worry about it.’  He sighed as if taking pity on you, plastering a forced smile back onto his face as he gently punched your arm and asked, 'So, what do you wanna do with your day?’

'Honestly, I kind of just want to head back to my room.  It’s been a little intense, all the information, learning about this place.  I could use some peace and quiet to, like, process it or something.’

'Sure,’ he nodded.  'Sure, we can do that.  Come on.’

 

* * *

 

For the next week, you only left your room to eat breakfast and dinner, accompanied by Simon at all times.  You didn’t see Mandy or Logan, and, perhaps more disappointingly, you didn’t see Negan.  You knew now that he’d recognised you, that he knew exactly who you were.  You could tell by the treatment you were receiving, your lack of job assignment and your Savior shadow, and you doubted that either Logan or Mandy had been sleeping in a private room with an ensuite.  Plus, Simon had slipped up out in the courtyard when you’d been asking about your comrades.  He’d called you by your name which, you’d only realised then, nobody had actually asked you at any point.  Of course, it was possible that the information had been shared by one of the others, but it seemed unlikely somehow.  You were convinced that it had come from Negan.

When you slipped quietly into the canteen at dinner, exactly a week and two days since you’d joined the Sanctuary, Simon at your side, you were surprised to see Logan amongst the hustle and bustle, heading over to an empty table with a tray clutched in his hands.  

'Hey!’ you called out, barely audible over the din, 'Logan!’  Simon’s brow furrowed as he watched you head towards the familiar face, but he did nothing to stop you, staying back as you slipped into the seat opposite the one Logan had just taken.

'Hey, it’s so good to see you.’  You reached out a hand to grasp his across the table, watching shock spread across his face.

'Y/N?  God, you’re alive!’

'Well, of course I’m alive.  What did you-’

'We didn’t see you, and all we could get out of Dwight was some cryptic comment about how the situation had been handled.  We thought…  Well, I don’t know what we thought, but it didn’t sound good.’

You frowned at him, confused.  'Wait, who’s we?  You’ve seen Mandy?  All I keep being told is that you’re both too busy in your job assignments for me to catch up with you.’

'Well, Mandy is now.’  His tone had become bitter, and you had to swallow the barrage of questions that were piling up in your head.

'Okay, I don’t understand.  Start from the beginning.  What have you guys been doing since we got here?  I’ve been in here for breakfast and dinner every day and I haven’t so much as caught a glimpse of either of you.’

'So, you know they separated us when we first arrived?  I got tossed into a dorm with 3 other guys, the place was like a damn prison cell, and apparently Mandy was roommates with the scariest woman she’d ever seen.  Reckons she sat and watched her sleep the first night, so the poor girl was too terrified to close her eyes after that.  Then the next morning, Dwight comes to get me, tells me that Negan wants me to become a Savior, to join his team at one of their outposts about twenty miles from here.  Apparently, he had a good feeling about me or something.’

'What did you say?’

'I said yes.  I’m learning the ropes right now before I move out there.  I didn’t really feel like I had a choice.  Plus, I didn’t want to end up as one of the poor saps having to work the fences.’  At your blank expression, he tilted his head in the direction that the front gate was located on the compound.  'Y'know, wrangling the walkers?’

When your face still displayed a lack of understanding, he shook his head at you.  'Have you seen, like, anything of this place since we got here?’

'Not really,’ you admitted.  'So, what about Mandy?  Where’s she?’

'Well, they started her off in the kitchens, scrubbing pans, sweeping floors, that kinda thing.’  When you failed to conceal your smirk, he raised his eyebrows at you.  'I know, Mandy’s worst nightmare, right?  So then, a couple of days ago she’s summoned to Negan’s office on the top floor, and the next time I see her she’s dressed in this skimpy black dress and heels she could barely walk in.  Says she’s one of Negan’s wives now, and she basically just has to sit around and look pretty all day.’

'She married Negan?’  You couldn’t hide your shock at this very sudden turn of events, but Logan’s eyes were narrowed as he drummed his fingers against the table in an anger-driven rhythm.

'Yeah, she married Negan, making her wife number six.  I mean, can you believe the guy?  Six wives and he can just pick and choose which one he wants to do when.  I can’t believe she agreed to that!’

'Wait, six?  He has six wives?’

'Yep.’  You fell into a stunned silence, your brain struggling to cope with all of the information that Logan had just dumped on you.  'They live in a parlor just along the corridor from Negan’s office.  Apparently that floor is reserved only for Negan and his whores.’

'What?’  Your mind wasn’t keeping up with his words, but that had caught your attention.  'The top floor?’

'Uh huh.’

'My room’s on the top floor.’

Logan’s eyes grew wide as a firm hand planted itself on your shoulder, Simon’s voice forceful in your ear.  'You’ve got to eat or leave now, Y/N.  It’s time to go.’

'But-’

Your argument was interrupted by the squeal of Logan’s chair against the floor as he flung it back, shoving his barely touched plate of food away from him.  'It’s fine.  I’ve got work to do anyway.’

Your eyes followed him as he strode across the canteen, pushing his way out of one of the external doors and heading off across the courtyard.

Simon’s breath was hot on your neck as he leaned over you.  'How many times do I have to tell you not to ask questions?’


	4. Chapter 4

_Before…_

You were curled up on the sofa, a textbook balanced precariously on one of its arms, trying to make the most of the early morning quiet and get some study time in, munching on a mouthful of Lucky Charms from the bowl in your hand.  It had been a few weeks since you’d moved in and, though you got along well with your new housemates, there always seemed to be something going on, making it hard to find the peace you needed to get your head down and do some work.  You’d found that by setting your alarm for around seven, you’d get a good few hours in before anyone else surfaced, and it meant you were just about keeping on top of your course work despite working all the hours you could get at the bar.  The only other person who was usually up and about at this time was Negan, but he tended to leave you to it, pausing to nod hello before he headed out on a run.

Out of all of your housemates, it was Negan whose company you most enjoyed.  Maybe it was his age, but he was generally a little more subdued than the others, making him easier to talk to.  You’d gotten fairly close to Polly too, but, after an hour or so, you found yourself exhausted by her constant chatter, having to make excuses to slip back to your room, not wanting to offend her as you knew it was your issue.  You’d always been fairly quiet, a little shy until you really got to know someone, preferring your own company to that of others.  You were an only child so maybe that was the reason, but you just found being around people so draining.  Working the bar only exacerbated the issue, but the tips were good and you needed the job.  Negan was often in his room with the door open when you got home in the early hours, and you’d sometimes wander in for a chat, curling up at the foot of his bed and letting his deep tones relax you, feeling yourself unwind, as he told you about his day.

The slam of the front door made you jump, knocking your book to the floor and only just managing to not spill milk all down yourself.

‘Jesus, Negan, shut the door, why don’t you?’ you muttered sarcastically, your heart still racing.

The man himself appeared in the doorway, leaning against the frame with an amused smirk on his face.  'I’m sorry, doll.  Did I scare ya?’

‘Yeah, actually, you scared the shit outta me.’

‘Tha'ts definitely a sign that you’re studying too fucking hard.’  He leant down to scoop your book up off the floor, moving past you to drop down onto the couch, thumbing through the pages and skimming his eyes over the chapter you were reading.  'Fuck me, this isn’t exactly light reading for this early in the A.M. is it?’

You shrugged.  'When else am I supposed to study?  I’m always either in class or at work, and this place is a madhouse when everyone wakes up.’

He nodded, thoughtfully.  'Well, if you ever want to talk it out, I did this module last year.’

‘Really?  You wouldn’t mind?’

‘My door’s always open for you, doll.’  He passed your book back to you, your fingers brushing, causing a slight flush to colour your cheeks.  You’d been fairly successful in keeping your schoolgirl crush on Negan under control, so long as you avoided physical contact.  A touch from him caused a reaction that you weren’t able to control, no matter how much you told yourself that it was a bad idea to fall for your housemate.  You lowered your head, allowing your hair to fall forward around your face and hide your blush, but his hand moved up to brush your locks aside and tuck them behind your ear.  

Your eyes met his, as you smiled self-consciously, letting out a giggle as he reached for your spoon and helped himself to a big scoop of your now fairly soggy cereal.

‘Negan!’

'What?  I’m fucking hungry, doll.’

'Get your own damn cereal then,’ you demanded, as he tried to look innocent.

'But it tastes so much better when it’s yours!’

You elbowed him in the ribs, snorting when he grunted at the impact.  'Not as strong as you look, huh?’

'Oh, sweetheart, I have muscles you can only dream about.’  A lazy grin stretched over his face as you fought to keep your gaze on his, refusing to let it wander south and imagine what those muscles might look like, relieved when he changed the subject.  'So, you gonna be home for this fucking party tonight or what?’

'Party?  What party?

'We talked about it a couple of weeks ago?  Throwing a party for Poll’s birthday?’  At your blank expression, he rubbed his hand over his stubbled chin and squeezed his eyes shut.  'Shit, you weren’t there for that conversation.  And I’m guessing nobody filled you in on the plans?’

You shook your head, your hopes for a quiet night off drifting into the ether.  'Apparently not.’

'Sorry, doll.  I figured someone woulda told you.’

'It’s fine,’ you assured him, trying to keep your tone light.  'So, what is the plan exactly?’

'Party.  That’s pretty much it.  I think we were telling people to show up around nine.  You working or-’

'No,’ you shook your head.  'No, I’ll be here.’

Your discomfort obviously showed on your face as Negan smiled kindly at you.  'Hey, what do you say we go to this fucking thing together?  I’ll make sure you don’t have to talk too much, and you can make sure I don’t feel too old.’

You smirked.  'Negan, I’m good but I’m not that good.’

'Do you want someone to hold your fucking hand or not?’

You thought about it, realising that actually the knot in your stomach at the thought of your house filling with a load of strangers loosened slightly at the idea of having him by your side.  'Yes,’ you nodded gratefully.  'Thank you.’

 

* * *

 

Negan let out a low whistle as you stepped out of your room to find him leaning against his closed bedroom door, his eyes wandering up your bare legs as you tugged self-consciously at the skirt that was seemed a lot shorter now than it had done in your room.  

'Fuck, doll, you look hot.’

You raised an eyebrow at him, trying to ignore the rush of heat that spread through your body at his words.  You’d felt like you should make some kind of effort for the party, and had pulled out your only skirt, teaming it with a black tank-top and a plaid shirt.  It wasn’t much, but it was a step-up from your usual jeans and t-shirt attire, and it seemed to be having some effect on your housemate, whose gaze was still roaming over you.

'Negan, stop!’

'What?  You actually have legs!  Who knew!’

'Alright, are we doing this or what?’

A smirk appeared on Negan’s face as his tongue ran over his bottom lip, his eyes sparkling.  'Well, I was gonna insist on getting you a fucking drink first, but, hey, if you wanna do this now…’  He pushed on his bedroom door, letting it swing open behind him as he held out an arm to invite you in.  You knew that by this point your face must be bright red, but you refused to let him have the last word. 

'Aren’t you a little old for me?’  You winked at him, watching him shake his head in disbelief.  

'Watch yourself, doll.  It’s only a matter of time.’

You suddenly found that your mouth was very dry, and when you opened it to speak, nothing came out.  The self-satisfied grin on his face didn’t help matters, and you fixed your eyes on the patch of carpet between you, waiting for your pulse to settle back into a normal rhythm.  Finally, Negan took pity on you, reaching out a hand and laying it on the small of your back, guiding you down the stairs where you could hear people arriving.  'Come on, it’s party time.’

The party was already in full-swing when you reached the living room.  Apparently Polly had brought some friends back from class with her, and they’d been drinking since late afternoon, getting increasingly raucous.  You felt the beat of the music throb through your chest as you found yourself moving closer to Negan, letting him take the lead and push your way through to the kitchen, where he reached for a can of beer that had been sitting in the ice-filled sink and handed it to you.  'Relax, alright, this is supposed to be fun.’

'So I’ve heard.’  You cracked the can open and took a long swig, wrinkling your nose a little at the taste.  You weren’t much of a drinker, truth be told, but you knew you weren’t going to get through the night sober.

'You’re really not a fucking people person, are you sweetheart?’  You glared at him, and he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side.  'Stick with me, doll.  I promise you, it won’t be so bad.’

And it wasn’t.  Negan thrived in the party atmosphere, mingling with those he knew, introducing himself to those he didn’t, always making sure to include you in the conversations, moving on before he hit any awkward silences.  You drank far more than you should’ve, you sat on the arm of Negan’s chair keeping up a whispered commentary of your observations about the drunken crowd around you, and you even danced a little, swaying in time to the music and tossing your hair from side-to-side, as Negan’s arm snaked around your waist.  He was true to his word, not leaving your side, ensuring you were having fun, that you were comfortable.  

Is this what it’s like to be Negan’s girl, you couldn’t help but wonder, as you stared at yourself in the bathroom mirror, having reluctantly had to break away from him to relieve yourself.  Your cheeks were flushed, your eyes glazed with alcohol, but the girl smiling back at you was happy, confident.  You dried your hands on the towel on the back of the door before stepping out to rejoin the chaos.  

Your eyes scanned the room for Negan, knowing that he wouldn’t be hard to pick out, being one of the tallest people there, but when you finally located him, he was leaning against the wall, laughing with another girl.  She was playing with her hair, twisting it round her fingers as she smiled seductively, biting her lip and peering up at him from under her lashes.  You felt disappointment twist in your gut, heightened by the beers and the high that you’d been riding.  You were not Negan’s girl.  Deciding you’d had enough of partying for the night, you turned back towards the door and climbed the stairs to your room.

 

* * *

 

A sharp rap at your door tore your attention from where it was fixed on your TV, though you couldn’t have told anyone what you were watching as your mind was wandering all over the place.  When you didn’t answer, the door creaked open and Negan stepped around it, closing it behind him as he smiled at you.

'I wondered where you’d fucking disappeared to.  You ditching me, doll?’

'No.’

'What are you doing up here then?’

When you shrugged, he perched on the edge of your bed and reached a hand out to rest on your bare calf where it was curled up on the covers, his brow furrowing when you pulled away from his touch.

'Have I done something to upset you, sweetheart?’  His tone was calm, but you could hear the hint of uncertainty behind his voice, not something you were used to hearing from someone with an ego as big as his.

'No.  You just looked busy so I left you to it.’

'Busy?’  Realisation dawned on his face.  'With Melissa?  You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me!  We were just talking, doll.’

'Whatever.  It doesn’t matter to me, anyway.  It’s not like this was a date so you can talk to who you like.’

'And what if I wanna talk to you?’

You shrugged again.  'You should probably get back to the party, Negan.’

'Don’t fucking do that,’ he growled.  'Don’t tell me what to do.   I’m trying to talk to you here.’

'Fine, then talk!’

He fell silent and you rolled your eyes, suddenly feeling very tired.  'Negan, please, just-’

'Did you want this to be a date?’  He cut you off, his eyes finding yours and lingering there.  'Is that what you wanted?’

'I don’t really know what I wanted,’ you admitted, the alcohol controlling the words spilling from your lips.  'It’s just that…  You make people feel special, Negan.  Girls, I mean.  You make us feel like we’re the only one in the room you can see, and then we go to pee, and when we get back, you’re giving someone else that same look, and it sucks!’

'I didn’t realise-’

'Of course, you didn’t!  Why would you?  You’re just strutting around, doing your thing, looking so damn drop dead gorgeous that not one girl in that room could take their eyes off of you, and you don’t even realise what it is that you’re doing!’

'What am I fucking doing exactly?’

'You’re tricking them into falling for you.  You’re letting them believe they have a chance, and then you’re onto the next one, because to you, it’s nothing.  You’re just being friendly, right?  Just talking?’

'Wait… Tricking them into falling for me, or you into falling for me?’

'Either.  Both.  I don’t know.’  The fight went out of you as another wave of exhaustion washed over you.  'I just really want to go to sleep now, please, Negan.  I’m drunk, and I’m tired, and it’s been a really great evening, and I don’t want to ruin it by fighting.’

'I didn’t even realise we were fucking fighting!’

'Oh.’  You sighed, struggling to kick the blanket down the bed so you could lean down and pull it back up over you, covering your head so that your next words were muffled.  'Well, good then.  Goodnight, Negan.’

'Goodnight, doll.’  You felt the blanket being pulled out of your hands, and then he was leaning over you, bending forward to press a soft kiss to your forehead.  'You want me to turn your TV off on my way out?’

'No.’  You hesitated for a moment, indecisive in your drunkenness, then smiled shyly up at him.  'Can you stay and watch it with me?’

'Now?  I thought you were tired.’

'I am.  I just want you to stay.’  He exhaled heavily, and you felt a pang of embarrassment.  'Unless you wanna get back to the party, I mean.  Don’t feel like you have to.  You’re right, I’m probably just gonna crash out anyway.’

He stood and you thought for a moment that he was actually going to go, but he just toed off his boots, then climbed back on to the bed, stretching out beside you and reaching out his arm so that you could curl yourself against him, your head resting on his chest.  His body was warm and firm, and you found yourself moving even closer to him, grasping a handful of his shirt so that he couldn’t leave you.

'Doll, you are so incredibly fucking wasted right now.’

'Mmhmm.’

'We can just forget all about this tomorrow, alright?’  He waited for an answer, but you’d already drifted off, your grip on him loosening.  'Well, shit.’

 

* * *

 

_Now…_

Following your conversation with Logan, you returned to your room, stomping off angrily with Simon trailing behind you, running his hand through his hair as he cursed under his breath.  When you reached your door, you threw it open, slamming it behind you and dropping to the floor in front of it, pressing your back against the cold surface to cool your simmering rage.  

For as long as you’d known Negan, he’d had an air of superiority, a way of looking at you that made you feel like he knew way more than you did.  You’d never been sure whether it was pure ego or whether he really was as clever as he thought, but it had always grated on you a little, as if he were just toying with you to see how you’d react, as if you weren’t quite smart enough to figure out his games.  

Well, you’d figured him out this time.  He recognised you from the start, of course he did, but rather than be a man and just speak to you, he’d locked you away, near enough to him that he’d know what you were getting up to, but not so close that he’d actually have to risk running in to you in the halls, his henchman your shadow, reporting back on your every move.  Is that the sort of girl he thought you were?  Give you a pretty little bedroom, running water, and free points to spend as you chose, and you’d be satisfied enough that you wouldn’t ask any questions, wouldn’t push to see him and find out how exactly your old friend had ended up leader of a community like this, where punishments were threatened if you didn’t meet his high standards?  He’d underestimated you, just as he had before, and it was infuriating.  You had so much you wanted to say to him, and you knew that Simon wasn’t going to act as an effective go-between, even if you took the risk and asked him.  Nope, there was only one thing for it: you were going to have to confront Negan yourself.


	5. Chapter 5

After a sleepless night, tossing and turning as you played out arguments with Negan in your head, you slipped out of your room the following morning to find Simon waiting for you as always.  Your exhaustion had left you grumpy, and you rolled your eyes at his enthusiastic greeting, slouching off along the corridor before he had time to take the lead.  

‘Aren’t you bored of this yet?’ you grumbled, as you turned the corner, sliding an elastic band from your wrist and twisting your hair up into a messy bun on top of your head, already tired of it falling in your face.  'I mean, seriously, you’re, like, Negan’s right-hand man, right?  You’ve got to have better things to do!’

‘I do as I’m told.’  As usual his answer was short and to the point, but you found it hard to believe that he really did just blindly obey his leader’s every command without questioning the motive, even if only internally.  From what you’d seen of Simon, and you’d seen way more of him than anyone else since you joined the Sanctuary, he was a pretty smart guy, and in your experience smart guys asked questions.  

'Jesus, you’re like his lapdog,’ you snarked, as you reached the top of the stairwell, glancing to your left at the sound of footsteps retreating.  And there he was, Negan, his leather-clad back to you as he walked away, his jeans hanging low on his hips, his flat ass still not capable of filling them.  His baseball bat was resting on his shoulder as he walked, alone, down the corridor, and you made a snap decision.  Simon had overtaken you when you’d paused and had already descended halfway down the stairs, barely noticing when you shifted your direction and stalked after Negan, watching as he disappeared behind a door, letting it shut slowly behind him.  

There were no markings on the doorway to suggest what it might be, but that wasn’t going to stop you.  Negan was inside, and you were determined to speak to him, to force him to acknowledge you.  You grasped the handle, battling with it for a moment or two before realising the door was locked, beginning to hammer your fists against it as you saw Simon approaching.

'What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ he shouted, as he neared you, reaching out a hand to grip your shoulder, ready to pull you away, but then the door opened, and Negan was standing in front of you, close enough to touch, his eyes locked on yours.  

'Sorry, boss,’ Simon mumbled.  'I was taking her down for breakfast and she managed to lose me on the stairs.  Won’t happen again.’

Negan shifted his gaze to the other man, staring him down, until Simon lowered his arm, releasing you and taking a step back.  'Get the fuck out of here, Simon.’

'Yes, boss.’  

With Simon backing hurriedly away, you were left alone with your old friend, suddenly wishing that you weren’t.  His eyes fixed on you again, the warm brown irises somehow steely cold as they bore into you.  You’d expected him to yell at you, to say something, but he remained silent, which was almost more unnerving than if he had lost his temper.  For a long moment, you just stared at each other, and then, finding your determination once more, you shoved past him into the room, spinning on your heel to face him as he pushed the door shut and turned towards you.

'Well, well, well.  I wondered how long it’d take for you to fucking hunt me down.’

'Hunt you down?  Negan, what the hell is this?  You know who I am?’

'Of course I know who you are, doll.  It was a long time ago, but we’re not talking fucking lifetimes here, are we?’

'Then why didn’t you say anything?   When they brought me in, you could’ve said something, but you didn’t!’  You tried to keep your voice even as you questioned him, fighting to keep control of your anger, but you knew you were getting louder with every word until you were practically screeching at him.  ‘You acted like you didn’t know me!  Why?’

'Well, shit, sweetheart.  I didn’t exactly see you greeting me with hugs either, if you recall.’

'Because I was terrified!  I had just lost everyone that I cared about, and then I’d been brought to this soulless hellhole, surrounded by your bully boys-’

'Bully boys?  You mean the men that saved your ass?  How’s that for appreciation!’

'Appreciation?  Yeah, they saved us, and thank you for that, really, but then they start going on about rules and punishments.  What is this, Negan?  What the hell are you running here?’

'A fucking society, princess.  Can’t you see what I’ve built?’

'You’ve built a dictatorship!’

'I’m keeping people alive, alright?  That’s what I do!’

You took a deep breath, your pulse pounding in your ears as you took in his reddening face, his hair tousled where he’d been running his fingers through it as you argued.  Half of you wanted to slap him, while the other half just wanted to go to him and wrap your arms around him.  

'What game are you playing, Negan?’ you husked eventually, your throat thick with emotion.  

'I just told you, doll-’

'I don’t mean this, the Sanctuary and your Saviors.  I mean with me.  What game are you playing with me?’

'I don’t know what you mean.’

'The private room, on the floor that you keep reserved only for you and your multiple wives, which, what the fuck, by the way.  The points allowance that I don’t have to work for.  The 24-hour guard.  Seriously, Negan, what the hell are you doing?’

'I’m keeping you safe.’

'Bullshit.  You’re keeping me isolated.  What is it, huh?  Don’t want me talking to anyone?  Spilling your little secrets?  God, Negan, are we still in college or what?’

His gaze roamed over your face as he took a step towards you, your breath hitching in your throat as you tried to read his expression.  For a moment it was like you actually were back in college, both young and naïve, toying with each other and expecting it to all be okay.  But that world was gone, and when Negan reached for you, his large hands cupping your waist, you brought your arm back and slapped him hard across the cheek.  You channelled all of your anger into the blow, all of the pain he’d caused you back then, all of the confusion and fear he was putting on you now.  You watched him reel, bringing his fingers up to touch his stinging flesh, and then you broke down, falling into his arms as he held you, rocking you gently as he cradled you against his chest.  

'I’m sorry, doll.  I’m so sorry.’  One of his hands rubbed soothing circles over your back, the other reaching up to brush the hair back from your face so he could stare down at you, eyes raking over your tear-stained skin.  'God, it is so good to see you.’

You fought to pull yourself together, forcing yourself to take shaky breaths until you were capable of speech, your eyes not leaving his though you moved out of his embrace.  'Then why, Negan?  Why didn’t you say anything?  The truth, please,’ you added as he started to speak.

He sighed.  'Because I’m a fucking idiot, okay?  I froze when I saw you.  I literally could not believe you were kneeling there in front of me.  But I’ve got a reputation to uphold here, y'know?  This place depends on people thinking I’m the shit.  The second they see any kind of weakness, I’ve got a fucking rebellion on my hands!’

'So you just blustered through it?’

'Exactly.  And then, after that, it felt too fucking late so I just left you to get on with it.  I was trying to make your life easier, with the room and the points.  I wanted you to feel safe here.  The guard was just so that I could make sure you were okay.  I promise, I wasn’t trying to isolate you.’

'What about Logan and Mandy?  I mean, I get making Logan a Savior, he’s strong, but marrying Mandy?  What the hell’s that about?’

'Well, in case you hadn’t noticed, she’s fucking cute, doll.’  He smirked at you, running his tongue across his teeth as he leant back, dropping his bat from his shoulder until it brushed against the floor.  'And she can’t get enough of me which is exactly what I look for in a woman.’

'You’re a jerk.’

'I know.’

'Good.’

A knock on the door interrupted your conversation, and Negan grinned at you apologetically as he made his way over and pulled it open.  Dwight was standing before him, shifting uncomfortably as he glanced over and saw you there.

'Sorry, boss.  I was just coming to report on the situation at the Hilltop.’

Negan exhaled loudly, shaking his head.  'Oh, Dwighty boy, your timing sucks, but you better come in.’  He turned to you, cocking his head as he caught his bottom lip between his teeth.  'Sorry, sweetheart.  What d'you say we pick this up later?  Get Simon to bring you up here for dinner, okay?  I’ll get the kitchen to send us something up.’

You nodded, slipping past him and Dwight to leave the room, looking back over your shoulder to see that he had turned to watch you go.

'Tonight, doll, I promise.’

 

* * *

 

Simon was waiting for you at the top of the stairs, his expression furious as he watched you approach.

'What the hell are you playing at, Y/N?  You trying to get my ass killed, is that it?’

'Oh, Simon.  You really shouldn’t ask so many questions,’ you smiled cattily at him as you jogged down the stairs, feeling better than you had in days.

'Ha, you’re funny,’ he grumbled as he caught up with you, reaching out to grasp your wrist and stop you from going ahead of him again.  'You pull something like that again, it won’t be my ass that’s at risk, you hear me?’

'Are you threatening me, Simon?’  All amusement had gone from your voice now as you squared off against your guard, trying to make yourself appear bigger, bolder than you felt in that moment, dwarfed by his tightly-muscled frame.  

'I don’t threaten women.  I’m just warning you that actions have consequences round here, and I won’t be taking any consequences for your damn actions.’

'I wouldn’t expect you to.’

'If anyone else had done that, Negan would have had them thrown in a cell before they could say a word.’

You remained silent, noting the curiosity in his voice and realising that Negan really had told him nothing about you, or about your history.  You played on his uncertainty, smiling serenely as his eyes narrowed, then glancing up at the large clock on the wall of the corridor a few stairs below you, your face falling.  Thinking you might be about to confide in him, your mask slipping, Simon took a step towards you, his grip relaxing slightly.  

Oh darn,’ you whined.  'We missed breakfast!’


	6. Chapter 6

_Before…_

The crowd at the bar had been four or five deep for the past few hours, and you huffed a sigh of relief as the mass exodus that meant the more stylish clubs in the centre of town were due to open occurred like clockwork, the students filtering out into the cool evening, leaving behind only your stalwart regulars.  You ran a cloth over the bar, soaking up the spills, then moved along to the end where a bar stool was tucked into the corner out of the way, dragging it out a few inches then dropping on to it, grateful for the relief of pressure on your aching feet.  Every customer left in the place was still nursing a drink so you knew you had a few minutes to relax before anyone needed you for anything, watching as one of the other bar girls collected the empties from around the room before she finished for the night, placing them at the hatch through to the back room before heading home.  Cal, your manager, only kept one of you on past ten thirty these days, knowing that the rush would always be over by then.  You didn’t really mind being the one left on shift.  After the hubbub of the early evening, you enjoyed the quiet peace of a mostly-empty bar, the hum of whispered conversations in dark corners, the faint strains of music emanating from the jukebox.  You’d been working at Lennon’s since you’d started college, and it had become a sort of home to you, lasting a lot longer than your stints in share houses, though you had a better feeling about your current accommodation, thinking this one might stick, most of your housemates young enough that you would graduate in the same year despite your course taking twice as long.

The door to the bar swung open, letting an icy breeze filter into the room, a stark contrast to the warm stuffiness left behind by the mass of bodies.  A lean figure strutted in, his face in shadow, but you felt yourself fighting off a grin as he approached you.  You weren’t sure when it had become a habit for Negan to visit you at work, but it was one you enjoyed, looking forward to him dropping in for a drink once things had quietened down.  You hadn’t spoken about your drunken rambling the night of the house party, though he’d still been there when you woke up, his long frame stretched out on the bed beside you, his arm curled loosely round your waist.  He’d just laughed at you as you whimpered at the after-effects of your drinking, calling you a lightweight and affectionately ruffling your hair.  You were glad that he hadn’t let it change things between you.  He’d become a good friend and you knew you’d feel very alone without his company, so you pushed your feelings aside, finding it easier with each passing day, and let yourself slip into an easy and comfortable companionship.  

‘What can I get for you, sir?’ you asked, sliding from the stool, already pulling a glass from the shelf below the bar and reaching for a bottle of whiskey.  

‘Ahh, doll, you know me so well.’  He took the drink from your hand, swirling it around before taking a sip.  'I think you working here is bad for my fucking liver.’

You scoffed as you climbed back onto your stool.  'Nobody’s making you come in here every night.’

‘You saying you don’t enjoy my company?’

You narrowed your eyes at him, knowing he was right and that you’d be disappointed if he didn’t appear at some point during the evenings when you were on shift.  'You could drink soda.’

It was his turn to snort, pushing his now empty glass across to you and nodding to you to refill it.  'Sweetheart, do you even serve that sugary shit in here?’

‘We can,’ you informed him, before admitting, ‘We don’t tend to though, not unless it’s a mixer for vodka or something.’

He nodded, taking a sip of the freshly topped-up liquor that you slid over to him, not even bothering to get up this time.  'So, you ready for the semester to be over?’

‘God, yes!’  You leant forward and rested your elbows on the bar, pretending not to notice when Negan’s eyes drifted to your cleavage.  'I actually managed to get my shifts here covered so I can go home for the holidays.’

'Fuck, doll, that’s great news.  Your folks’ll be happy.’

'They will.  It’ll be the first time I’ve been able to make it back since I started here so I’m pretty psyched too.’  You pressed a finger into the small pool of water forming on the bar, the condensation from his glass trickling onto the smooth surface.  'What about you?  You going home to see your family?’

'Yeah,’ he smiled.  'My mom’s the best damn cook.  Wouldn’t miss that shit for the world.’

'It’s nice that you’re close.’

'Well, my brother’s an ass so it falls on me to play the dutiful doting son.’

'I didn’t know you had a brother.’ Your eyes widened at the information.  'You’ve never mentioned him before.’

'Ahh, doll, he’s really not worth mentioning.  He’s some hotshot lawyer in the city, makes a fucking bomb doing it too.  Thinks he’s too good to mix with us small-town types these days.  Barely speaks to Mom and it cuts her up.’  He took another swig of whiskey.  'Like I said, he’s an ass.’

'Sounds it.’  You reached for the liquor bottle again, topping him up automatically, and pouring a finger for yourself in a clean glass.  'And your Dad’s not around?’

'Nah, he cleared out when we were kids.  Don’t really remember him to be honest, except he was the shit at ping-pong.’

'Ping-pong?’  It seemed a weird memory to have got stuck in his head.

'Yeah, we had a table in the shed out the back.  Used to spend whole weekends out there holding tournaments with the other kids in the street, but Dad would always kick our asses.  He used to chuck the bat down on the table with this cocky as shit grin on his face.’ He shook his head, sighing.  'That’s all I can picture in my head when I think about him.’

'Cocky as shit grin, huh?’  You nudged his hand so that he looked up to meet your eyes.  'Wondered where you got that from.’

He chuckled and pushed himself to his feet, downing the rest of his drink as he got ready to leave, tossing a note on the bar to cover his tab.  

'Thanks, doll.  Better cut it short though, I’ve got an assignment due.  I’ll see you back at home.’  He shrugged on his jacket, turning towards the door as it swung open and a couple of lads walked in, obviously a little worse for wear going by their over-loud voices and stumbling movements.

As they made their way to the bar, you saw Negan hesitate, his eyes flicking back to you as he checked that you’d be okay.  You gave him a small smile, moving towards them to take their order.  If you couldn’t deal with drunks, you were definitely in the wrong job, but you still felt a little uneasy as you saw him turn to leave.

'Bar wench!’ one of them called as you reached them, leaning across and grabbing your hand with a clammy paw, tugging you against the bar.  

You sighed, pulling away, and plastering a false smile onto your face.  'What can I get you, guys?’

'Well, I don’t know.’  He was leering at you now, his eyes skimming over your bare shoulders and down to your chest.  'Do you come on the rocks?’

'Come on, guys.’  You moved away to grab your cloth, taking a moment to collect yourself before turning back to them.  'You want a drink or not?’

'If you’re not on offer, you shouldn’t be behind the bar,’ his friend chimed in, leaning over to scan his gaze over your hips, his eyes drifting downwards.  'I’ll pay good money for a sip of you, sweetcheeks.’

'A couple of beers, was that?’  You knew you should really refuse to serve them in the state they were in, but you could already tell that doing so would cause them to kick off.  Instead, you reached for a couple of bottles of Bud, uncapping them and sliding them across the bar.

One of them picked up his bottle to take a sip, almost reaching his mouth before it slipped from his fingers, hitting the ground in an explosion of glass and foam.

'Shit.’  You disappeared into the small office behind you to grab a broom, rounding the bar to clean up the glass, knowing it was a health and safety violation to leave it, though you didn’t really want to get too close to your rowdy customers.  

'Hey, look,’ one of the drunks guffawed, gesturing to the wooden pole you were clutching.  'She’s taken the stick out of her ass.  Maybe she’ll be up for some fun now.’

You felt hands grip your hips from behind as you were pulled back against a unsteady but firm body, whilst the one who had spoken moved in front of you, pressing up against you and sandwiching you between him and his friend.  He was taller than you, towering over you as he breathed beer breath into your face.  'Come on, baby, we’ll take care of you.’

You planted your hands on his chest, shoving him roughly away, and then Negan was there, dragging him backwards and throwing him to the ground, aiming a sharp kick to his ribs, whilst you shrugged out of the grip of the guy behind you, who was now backing away from the look of fury in Negan’s eyes as he turned his attention back to you.  

'You alright?’  He reached out to ghost his fingers against your arm, watching your pale face as you staggered backwards against the bar.  You nodded, but your shaking hands gave you away.  

You were relieved when Negan took charge, raising his voice as he announced, 'Sorry folks, we’re gonna be closing early tonight!  Drink the fuck up and go the fuck home!’  

As the room began to slowly clear, he turned back to your attackers, both on their feet now and edging towards the door.  'You two sorry shits better not show your faces in here again, you understand?’

They nodded shakily, then disappeared out of the door, which Negan locked behind the departing customers as they filtered out into the night, before making his way back over to you where you remained slumped against the bar.

'Hey, you’re alright,’ he murmured, pulling you into his arms and holding you tight against his chest.  'I got you, doll.’

'Where did you come from?’  The musky scent of him, tinged with whiskey and cigarettes, calmed your fraught nerves, as you pulled back to look up at him.  'I thought you left.’

'Ducked into the toilets to take a leak,’ he explained.  'I had a bad fucking feeling so I didn’t wanna go too far.’

'Thank you.’

You buried your face in his neck, letting him stroke your hair as he gently swayed you in time to the track playing quietly on the jukebox.

As your heart rate returned to normal, and you began to feel a bit steadier on your feet, you pulled away, and turned back to the bar.  'I gotta get this place cleaned up before I leave.  I’ll see you back at home?’

You felt Negan’s hand on the small of your back as he came up behind you.  'I’ll give you a hand, sweetheart.  I’m not leaving you alone.’

 

* * *

 

_Now…_

After taking a stroll around the grounds, Simon huffing impatiently behind you, still annoyed at the stunt you’d pulled that morning, you spent the afternoon nervously pacing around your room, trying to figure out whether you’d forgiven Negan or not.  You knew him well enough to know that he’d go to such extremes to protect you, but that didn’t mean you agreed with his methods, cursing the guard still stationed outside your door, keeping you trapped here like a prisoner.  You still thought there was more to his refusal to acknowledge you, but you supposed that was a question for tonight.

At alarmingly regular intervals, you would haul your door open and ask Simon the time, sighing as the day crept slowly on, wishing you had something to occupy your mind which was going over and over what your evening with the head Savior might bring.  You knew you needed to stand your ground, to insist on the answers that you needed, but after all this time he was still your weakness, melting your stubbornness away with his cocky grin, laying your heart open with that soulful gaze.  In the end you settled for taking a shower, letting the stream of water wash over you, cleansing you of your anxiety.  You stood there for a long time, aware that you were wasting water but not really caring in that moment.  By the time you’d climbed out, towel-dried your hair and pulled on your jeans and a clean tank top, Simon was knocking on your door to tell you it was time to go.

You took a deep breath to steady yourself as you stood in front of your mirror, studying your face and wondering how it had changed in Negan’s eyes.  It had been over a decade since you’d last seen each other, and you knew you must look older, as he certainly did.  You swept your damp hair over one shoulder, shrugging a long thin cardigan on as you left your room and made your way along the corridor to Negan.


	7. Chapter 7

You rapped on the door, trying to ignore the anxiety pooling in your stomach as you heard footsteps approaching from the other side, before it swung open to reveal Negan before you.  He’d obviously stepped out the shower fairly recently himself, his hair damp and tousled, his feet bare, the thin cotton of his grey t-shirt clinging to the moisture on his chest.

‘Come the fuck in, doll,’ he greeted you, flicking his gaze to the man at your side.  'Thank you, Simon.  You can take the evening off.’

As he beckoned you in, you watched your guard slope away before stepping across the threshold.  Negan’s office was spacious with a big mahogany desk by the window.  Expecting to take a seat there, you veered in that direction, but he was moving past it, heading towards a closed door across the other side of the room.  You followed him through into a small living area, complete with a leather couch and a table and chairs similar to those in your own quarters.  

He dropped onto the couch, motioning for you to sit next to him, which you did, tucking yourself into corner and toeing off your boots so that you could tuck your feet up under you.  Negan smiled and you realised how many times you’d sat this way on your old couch at college, his lean body stretched out at one end whilst you curled up at the other.  It was eerily familiar, returning straight to that old habit despite these crazy circumstances and the years that had passed.  

‘So, this is pretty fucking crazy, sweetheart.  I gotta say, I never thought I’d see your pretty little face again.’

‘I kinda hoped I wouldn’t see yours,’ you admitted, feeling a pang of guilt at your honesty as he visibly flinched.

‘Ouch.’

‘Sorry.’

‘No, I deserve that shit.  I was a complete fucking asshole to you back then.’

‘Yeah, you were.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Good.’  Silence fell between you, and you decided to just ask the questions that had been whizzing around your head.  'Negan, what happened?  Where’s Lucille and-?’

You saw his muscles tense as you spoke his wife’s name, and when he interrupted you his voice was hushed.  'Dead.  Cancer.  Just as this whole thing started.  There wasn’t…  It was just us, and now it’s just me.’

You were shocked by the news of her death and wanted to ask more, but you could sense his reluctance so you glossed over it, moving on. ‘And your six wives apparently.  What the hell’s that about?  I mean, I know you were never an angel when it came to women but multiple wives, Negan…’

‘Look, these women rely on me for fucking protection, okay?  And they get a pretty easy fucking life.  Most of them needed something that they couldn’t afford, and the only way I could give it to them without looking weak as shit was to attach a condition to it.’

‘So, you make them sleep with you to get whatever it is that they need?’  You snorted.  'Aren’t you just a prince!’

‘I’m not forcing anyone to do anything.’  His voice was clipped, sharp, his eyes burning into yours.  'They don’t have to fucking sleep with me if they don’t want to.  It isn’t about the sex, although I’ll admit, it’s a pretty sweet perk.  It’s about status and privilege.  If they’re my fucking wives, it makes sense that they’re getting special treatment.  If they’re just another worker, everyone will expect to be treated the same and I can’t let that shit happen.’

You thought about this for a moment, then nodded.  'Okay.  I guess that makes sense.’

He visibly relaxed at your understanding, sliding down in the seat a little and spreading his arm along the back of the couch, though you saw the muscle in his cheek twitch at your next question.

‘So, what about me?’

‘What about you?’  His gaze had shifted to the floor as his fingers rubbed over the soft leather of the arm, picking at the stitches along the seam.  

‘Well, I have my room on your private floor, I get my points for nothing…  I’m just another Sanctuary member, at least to everyone else. I’m definitely not your damn wife.  So, what about me?’

‘You’re the exception to the fucking rule, sweetheart.’

‘And what if I don’t want to be?’

‘What?’

‘What if I want to live with the workers?  What if I want a job assignment so I can work my way up like everyone else?  I don’t feel comfortable with this, Negan.’

‘Why would you want that?  You know how shit it is down there at the bottom?’

‘At the bottom of your community, you mean?  It’s shit because you make it that way, and yes, I’ve spoken to Logan, so I understand how shitty it can be.’

‘Logan got an easy ride, doll,’ Negan scoffed.  'He’s fit and strong and experienced out in the world.  I need him to join my Saviors, so he’s been treated pretty sweet from the start.  It’s always easier to tempt them in with sugar, rather than resorting to doing things the hard way.’

You sighed.  'Fine, but I still want to work, Negan.  And I don’t want to be watched twenty four hours a day.  It isn’t fair, and it’s driving me crazy!  You must have a better use for Simon than shadowing my every move.’

'Shit, I’ve got a dozen different uses for Simon, he’s my best man.  But right now he’s on Y/N duty and that isn’t changing anytime soon. You’re my top priority!’

You growled in frustration, fisting your hair as you squeezed your eyes shut.  'Negan!  Why?  Why is that necessary?’

'Because there are some fucking bad people in here, okay, doll?’  He moved to lean towards you, his hand coming to rest on your ankle, his grip biting.  'I know you won’t agree to be my wife, so I can’t protect you that way, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to leave you alone for one second to let one of those dirty fuckers lay a finger on you.’

'I can look after myself,’ you huffed.  'I’m a big girl.’

'I don’t fucking care how big and scary you think you are.  Almost everyone that’s survived out there has had to do shit they never would’ve dreamed of before now, and it fucking changes people, twists their minds.  You’re no match for half the people in this place.  Simon stays.’

'How do you know my mind hasn’t been twisted?’  You hated that he seemed to think that you were so weak and pathetic as to need round the clock protection.

He gave you a crooked smile, lifting his hand to cup your cheek, his calloused thumb stroking over your skin, causing a shiver to run through you.  'Doll, I know you.  You’re pretty much the best person I’ve ever met.  You just don’t got it in you.’

'But I survived!’ you challenged him.  'I did things, things I never thought I would ever be capable of.’

'Have you killed?’

'Who hasn’t?’

'Don’t get cute with me, sweetheart.  Have you killed a person?  A living person?’

'Once.’

He let out a low whistle, shaking his head as he released your face from his grasp, sinking back into the couch again.  'Well, shit, doll, now you’ve surprised me.’

'He was threatening my people.  I didn’t have a choice.’

'We always have a fucking choice.  Sounds like you did what you had to do.  You should be proud of that.’

Your eyes were glued to the floor, reliving the terrifying moment in your mind, out on a run with Abbie and a few others, watching as a madman waved his gun around, shooting inches above your friend’s head.  You’d been scouting out a cabin, slightly ahead of the others, slipping back around until you were behind the threat, slipping your knife into his skull before he could react.  You’d felt his blood on your hands for a long time after that, warm and sticky, dripping from your fingers.

'Hey,’ Negan’s hands were on you again, gripping your shoulders as he pulled you round to face him.  'Hey, you gotta fucking own it, doll.  God, you’re tough as shit.’

'I’m not,’ you murmured, leaning your head against his shoulder, as his arm slipped around your waist.  'I’m not tough.  I can still feel it, Negan, the blood.  I feel the weight of his death on my shoulders every damn day.’

You paused, and you felt him inhale deeply.  'I know.  Trust me, sweetheart, I know what it’s fucking like.’

'You’ve killed?’

He nodded, but didn’t share any details.  It didn’t matter.  Knowing that the burden of taking a life was something that you shared broke down a barrier between you, and you leant further into him, comforted by his embrace.  

A knock at Negan’s office door signalled the arrival of your food, and brought about a shift in atmosphere as Negan busied himself relieving the young man of the plates he carried, setting them down on the table, and inviting you to take a seat.  The smell of tomato and herbs elicited a loud growl from your stomach as you slid into your chair, hungrily tucking in to the steaming pasta.  

'Woah,’ Negan smiled at you appreciatively as he took a bite.  'Gotta love a girl with a hearty appetite, honey, but you should breathe between mouthfuls at least.’

You giggled, swallowing, and taking an exaggerated breath, enjoying the warmth of the carbs in your tummy.  'Sorry, I missed breakfast after our little exchange this morning.  I haven’t eaten all day!’

'Shit, doll, why not just get something from the fucking market?  You’ve got all the points you need!’

'Yeah, but I didn’t earn them, Negan,’ you whined.  'I don’t feel right spending them.’

He sighed as you shovelled another forkful into your mouth, closing your eyes as you savoured the fresh flavours.  'It really bothers you that much?’

'It does,’ you admitted, speaking with your mouth full, though you shielded your lips with your hand.  'I hate it, Negan.  I never asked for any hand-outs.’

'Fine,’ he huffed.  'Tomorrow, I’ll give you a fucking job assignment.’

You smiled, glad that at least something you’d told him was sinking in.  'Thank you.’

You finished your meals in a comfortable silence, enjoying each other’s company.  It reminded you of the hours you’d spent sprawled across the bottom of his bed, poring over textbooks, whilst he sat at his desk, working on example lesson plans or presentations for class.  You’d always been good at comfortable silences, you and Negan.

When your plates were empty, you sat back with a satisfied smile on your face, cradling your swollen stomach in your arms.  'Oh man, I definitely ate too much.’

He chuckled at you, shaking his head at your discomfort.  'Some things never change.’

'Shut your mouth,’ you smirked, kicking him under the table.  

He pushed his chair back and stood, disappearing into his office and returning with two glasses and a bottle of whiskey which he set down on the table in front of you.  'Something to wash it down, sweetheart?’

'You’re the devil.’  You leant your head back and groaned, before reaching out a hand for one of the glasses. 'Hit me!’

You listened to the trickle of the liquid as he poured a finger into the glass, pressing it into your hand and laughing throatily as you knocked it back in one, finally letting your gaze fall to the bottle and linger there.  'I can’t believe the freakin’ world ends and you’re still drinking the same brand of whiskey.’

'You still remember my fucking drink, doll?  I’m flattered.’

'Well, I did pour most of them,’ you reminded him, remembering the way your heart skipped a beat whenever you saw him saunter into the bar, his eyes searching for you.  'I think by the time I left, you were pretty much keeping Lennon’s in business.’

'No wonder I was so fucking broke.’

You laughed, tapping your glass to indicate that he should pour you another measure.  'How the tables have turned, huh?’

He scoffed, sliding your refilled drink into your hand.  'I don’t make a habit of pouring drinks for people, so don’t get fucking used to it.’

'You sure I’m not the exception again?’

'Maybe I’m just trying to get you drunk.’

'You won’t have to try very hard,’ you admitted.  'I don’t even remember the last time I had a drink.’

'You should slow down a bit then, doll.’

'Where’s the fun in that?’  You smiled at him, twisting your glass in your fingers and watching how the light caught the amber liquid.

Negan levered himself to his feet, tucking the bottle under his arm, and picking up his glass in one hand, reaching for you with the other.  'Come on, let’s take this somewhere more comfortable.’

You let him take your hand and lead you back over to the couch, though this time when you sat, he dropped down beside you and turned to stretch out along the length of the cushions, his head resting in your lap.  You shook your head at him, but couldn’t help but grin at his smug expression.  'Really?’

'Too fucking right, sweetheart.  When I said more comfortable, I meant for me.’

Sighing you took another sip of your drink, balancing it on the arm of the chair, and threading your fingers into his hair, pulling at it gently and massaging his scalp in a way that used to make him purr.  'You’re right, some things never do change.’

'Oh doll, those fucking fingers of yours!’ he groaned, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards.  'You’re the best damn stress relief I’ve ever come across.’

'Better stress relief than six wives?’ you scoffed, shoving his head away gently, watching as his face broke out into a full-on grin.  

'Well, I don’t do all six at once.’

'You’re disgusting.’

'You love it.  Always did.’

'Maybe.’

'Shit, those were good times, weren’t they?  College?’

You shrugged, your hands automatically slipping back into his hair, working out the snags and straightening his curls between your fingers.

'Hey, we had good times,’ he insisted, noting your silence.  'Before I fucking ruined it all, we had a blast.’

His eyes met yours, teasing, but you could see the hint of uncertainty there, and you wanted desperately to make it go away, to rewrite all of the hurt and angst that had torn you apart.  'Yeah, we had some great times, we did.’

'Fuck yes, we did!’  

'Hey, d'you remember that day when Polly broke the lock on the bathroom door and got stuck in there for 3 hours?’

He let out a loud guffaw of laughter.  'God, she was too fucking scared to climb out the damn window.  The fire department had to come and break the fucking door down!’

'Yeah, cos our big strong male housemates couldn’t get the damn job done!’

'Hey, if we fucking damaged the door, we woulda ended up being charged for it by the landlord.  If the fire department does it, it’s covered by insurance!’

'Sure, sure,’ you giggled.  'Whatever you say!’

'Fine, what about the time you tried to cook the house a goodbye dinner before the end of second semester?’

'Oh, no, no, no, no, no,’ you begged, squeezing your eyes shut as you remembered your embarrassment when you’d fallen asleep at the table, your head in your arms, only waking up when the fire alarm started screeching in the hallway as the ground floor of the house filled with smoke.

'Thought you were gonna burn the fucking place down!’  Negan’s eyes were twinkling as he laughed at you, enjoying the opportunity to reminisce.  'Tell me, doll, did you ever learn how to cook?’

You jerked your knee upright to nudge him, as your cheeks reddened.  'Shut up, I could always cook.  I was just really tired.’

'Sure, whatever you fucking say.  Just remind me not to assign you to the kitchen, yeah?’

'Negan, you gave yourself food poisoning reheating week-old kebab!’

'Shit,’ he covered his face with his hands.  'I’d forgotten all about that!’

'I wish I had,’ you shuddered.  'I still remember cleaning up after you.’

'Oh, sweetheart.’  He reached a hand up to trail his fingers down your cheek.  'What the fuck did I do to deserve you?’

'You must’ve been a damn angel in a previous life, that’s for sure.’

As silence fell, you reached for your drink, taking another sip and wincing slightly at the burn in your throat.  'Oh man, I missed booze.’

'I don’t remember you ever being a big drinker?’

You considered this for a moment.  'I wasn’t, I guess.  Too much time spent answering the drunken demands of the town’s alcoholics.  But since the world went to shit, God, some nights all I can think about is how good it would be to pop the cap off an ice-cold beer.’

'Oh, doll,’ Negan groaned again, his body vibrating against your legs.  'That’s the sexiest damn thing I’ve ever fucking heard.’

'You miss beer?’

'Fuck yes, I miss ice-cold beer.’   His eyes were closed, his expression dreamy.  'It just isn’t the fucking same when it’s room temperature.’

'Right?’ you agreed emphatically, pushing him up off of your lap, so that you could curl into his side as he slung a casual arm around your shoulders.  

'What else do you miss?’

'I miss chocolate,’ you sighed.  'And I miss books, like, reading a new book for the first time by my favourite author.  I miss casual friendship, the sort of friendship where you don’t have to actually ask yourself whether you would die for that person, because it wasn’t ever gonna be an issue.  I miss using my brain for something other than survival.  Oh, and movies with Robert Downey Junior.’

You felt laughter rumble through his chest, and you looked up to meet his eyes.  'What about you?  What do you miss?’

'Pie.’  His first one tripped off his tongue as if he’d been thinking about it the whole time you’d been talking.  'My momma’s cherry pie, oh man, it was the best thing on the fucking planet.  And sports, y'know, organised sports with actual professional athletes, where the game doesn’t get broken up halfway through cos the fucking undead have invaded the field!  And I miss…’

His face grew serious as he hand slid up to the back of your neck, holding you in place as he leant his face down towards you.  'Shit, doll, I miss this.  I miss us.’  His gaze was locked on yours as he ran his tongue over his bottom lip, lowering towards you millimetre by millimetre.  You were frozen in place, unable to think, completely lost in the moment, until this moment started to remind you a lot of another one, one that took place so many years ago.

'Negan.’ You shook your head to free yourself from his hold, sitting up and sliding away to the other end of the couch.  'I can’t do this.’

He leant forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his head in his hands.  'I’m a fucking idiot.  I’m sorry, Y/N.’

'It’s okay.’

'I didn’t mean to…  I didn’t wanna ruin this.  I’ve really enjoyed your company tonight.’

'I know.  Me too.’

'Can we just forget the last 30 seconds?’

'I don’t know.  You tell me.’

He sighed, finally looking over at you and giving you an awkward smile.  'I just got caught up in the fucking moment, doll.  Everything about you is so damn familiar and I just… I just got lost in it for a minute, that’s all.’

When you nodded, he reached for your hand, linking your fingers together as he rubbed his thumb over the backs of your knuckles.  'Honestly, I could use a fucking friend round here, someone I can actually trust.’

'You trust me?’

'With my fucking life.’

You leant forward to wrap your arms round his neck, pulling him in for a tight embrace.  'I never thought I’d say this,’ you whispered.  'But I’m really happy I found you, Negan.’

As you released him, you cupped his face in your hands, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead, before you pushed yourself unsteadily to your feet, and slipped out of the room.


	8. Chapter 8

_Before…_

‘No, Cal, I can’t.  I’ve already got my flights booked!  I’ve supposed to be leaving in an hour!’

‘Someone’s gotta cover these shifts, Y/N.  You’re on the rota.  I need you here.’

‘But Gemma said she’d cover for me!’

‘Gemma’s got the flu.  She’s no good to me!’

‘But, Cal-’

'Look, it’s simple, Y/N.  Do you want to keep your job or not?’

'Fine,’ you huffed.  'I’ll see you tonight.’

Hanging up the phone you slumped down onto the couch, kicking at your suitcase so that it fell over to lay dejectedly on the floor.

'Everything okay, doll?’  Negan stood in the doorway, ready to head home for the holidays, his bag slung over his shoulder.  It was Christmas Eve, and the rest of your housemates had headed out early that morning.  Negan was supposed to be dropping you at the airport on his way out of town, but now it looked like you were going to be spending the festive season alone.

'Not really,’ you sighed.  'The girl I asked to cover my shifts has called in sick, so Cal’s making me work.  Looks like I won’t be seeing my folks for the holidays after all.’

'Shit, sweetheart, I’m sorry.’  Negan dropped his back and sat down beside you, resting his hand on your knee, his brow furrowed with concern.  'Can’t you just tell him to shove his fucking job?’

'I could.’  You flopped over on to your side, nestling against the arm of the chair and curling your legs up on the cushion.  'But I’d probably have to drop out of college.  I can’t afford my tuition and rent without work, and the tips at Lennon’s pretty much double my wage.’

'Well, if you want-’

'No,’ you cut him off, nudging his leg with your foot.  'Just go, Negan.  I know you need to get on the road.  I’ll be fine, okay?  I promise.’

He hesitated for a moment before levering himself out of his seat, and reaching for his bag again.  'Alright, doll.  I’ll see you in a couple of weeks.’

'Yep, see you then.’  You forced a smile as he reached down to ruffle your hair, before turning to leave, letting the door click shut softly behind him.

 

* * *

 

The bang of the front door slamming a couple of hours later must’ve made you jump a foot in the air.  You should have been alone, and the sounds of movement from the ground floor made your heart race with fear as you listened to the intruder wandering over the creaking floorboards.  You were in your room, having just gotten dressed after your shower, backing into the corner as heavy footsteps ascended the stairs, dropping your towel and reaching for anything you could use as a weapon.

'Y/N!  You here?’

The throaty shout from the corridor came seconds before your bedroom door swung open, and Negan appeared, his face creasing with amusement as he took in your appearance.  Your hair was hanging in rat’s tails around your pale face, your eyes wide with fright.  You were already in your jeans, ready to head out to work, but, not wanting to get make-up down yourself before you had to leave, you’d shrugged on your old, shapeless Frankie Says Relax tee, the hem falling to your knees.  To top off the look, you were holding your bedside lamp aloft, ready to bash your home invader around the head should he get too close.

'Fuck, doll,’ Negan guffawed.  'What are you gonna do with that?’

'Defend myself,’ you snapped, frowning at him as he leant against the wall, gasping for breath as he laughed at you.  'You scared the hell out of me, Negan!  What are you even doing here?’

He tried to pull himself together, taking a deep breath and shaking his head at you.  'I’m sorry, sweetheart.  I didn’t even think.  Look, I had a change of plans, alright?  Come and take a look.’  

He beckoned for you to follow him with a crook of his finger, disappearing out of your room and waiting for you at the top of the stairs, starting to descend as you caught up, having paused for a moment to run a brush through your damp hair and pick up your discarded towel from the floor.  

As you followed him down through the house, and into the kitchen, you gasped at the mass of shopping bags clustered on counter top.

'What the hell is this?’

'Well, I hated the thought of you being here alone for the holidays, doll, so I decided to stay here for Christmas.’

You turned to him, your eyes wide as you processed his words.  'Really?  You’re staying here for me?’

'Course I fucking am, doll.  I already called Mom to explain, but she had a standing invitation to Aunty Ruth’s anyway, so she’s fucking happy, and I’m fucking happy.’  He waited for your reaction, but you were still frozen in place.  'Are you fucking happy?’

'Negan!’  You launched yourself at him, throwing your arms around his neck as he lifted you off the ground, wrapping your legs around his waist and squeezing him tightly as he chuckled.  'Thank you, thank you, thank you!  God, you have no idea how happy I am!’

'I think I’m getting an idea,’ he smirked as you pulled back to plant a big sloppy kiss on his cheek.

'I can’t believe you’d do this for me.’

'I’d do fucking anything for you, doll.’

Your eyes met, and you felt his grip on you become stronger, his fingers biting into your hips where he held you against him, as your cheeks flushed pink.  You wriggled uncomfortably, feeling yourself melting under the heat of his gaze, but even the act of sliding down his body to place your feet back on the floor didn’t break the sudden intense atmosphere that had washed over you.

You cleared your throat, fixing your stare on your toes, as you searched for a change of subject.

'So, erm, what’s in the bags?’

The mood instantly lightened as Negan crossed the kitchen, rummaging excitedly through his purchases and pulling out random food packages, piling them precariously on the work surface.  'Food, doll!  Where do you think I’ve been for the past couple of hours?  We’re gonna have us a fucking Christmas feast!’

'There’s only two of us!’ you exclaimed, surveying the mountain of produce wobbling in front of you.

'Yeah, but it’s Christmas!  We’re gonna eat ourselves into a fucking food coma!’

You giggled at his enthusiasm, knowing that it was for your benefit.  'Can you actually cook a Christmas dinner, Negan?’

'Well, not a traditional one,’ he admitted, pulling a gigantic pack of minced beef out of bottom of one of the bags and presenting it to you with a flourish.  'We’re having my specialty!’

'Half a cow?’

'Just you wait, doll.’

'Okay, well, I wish I could stay and help, but I need to-’

'Get ready for work, I know.  Go on, clear the fuck out of here.  I got some prepping to do.’

 

* * *

 

With the students gone the bar was quiet, and when the last customer drifted out at half eleven you decided to call it a night, heading over to lock the door just as Negan appeared.  You set him up at the corner of the bar with his usual bottle of whiskey, making comfortable small talk as you cleaned up, singing quietly along to the song on the jukebox when silence fell between you.  When you were done, he helped you double check everything was switched off, and then you headed out into the night.

He reached for your hand as you strolled down the street, his fingers lacing through yours, and you glanced up at him, suddenly shy.  'I can’t believe you stayed here for me.’

'Like I said, I couldn’t stand the fucking thought of you spending Christmas alone, doll.’

'I know, but…  I know how much you were looking forward to going home and spending the holidays with your mom.’

He shrugged, kicking a stone along the pavement.  'I’ll still see her.  I’ll head out and spend a few days with her before classes start up again.’

'It’s not the same though.’

'Are you trying to get rid of me?’

You laughed, nudging him with your elbow.  'Of course not, you goof.  I just… Thank you, that’s all I’m trying to say.’

Letting go of your hand, he stopped for a moment, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you into his embrace.  You gladly stepped into his warmth, leaning your head against his chest and listening to the soft thrum of his heartbeat beneath his leather jacket.  You heard him let out a satisfied hum, and leaned back to meet his eyes, your breath catching in your throat as his hand slid up to cradle the back of your neck, as your breaths mingled in the few inches of space between you.  

You knew that all you’d have to do would be to push yourself up on your tiptoes and your lips would be touching, the stubble that speckled his skin scratching against your chin, but you were still so unsure.  You’d known Negan long enough now to know that he didn’t do monogamy, watched as he led girl after girl into his bedroom, winking at you as he passed by.  You didn’t want to be just another faceless girl in his crowd of conquests.

'Get a room!’  The shout from a passing car jolted you back to reality, and you laughed quietly, pulling away from him and continuing down the road, glad that home was now in sight.

'So, it’s offically Christmas day,’ you announced as you let yourself in through the front door, the time on the clock in the living room catching your eye.  

'Merry fucking Christmas, doll.’

 

* * *

 

You woke to the sound of your door creaking open, the smell of warmed pastries wafting into your room as you pushed yourself up on your elbows and squinted at the bright light flooding in from the hallway.  

'Good morning, doll!’  Negan’s tone was merry as he stood in your doorway clad in a t-shirt and joggers, a tray balanced precariously in one hand bearing croissants and coffee, a couple of gift-wrapped parcels grasped in the other.  'Wake up, it’s fucking Christmas!’

You couldn’t help but smile as he settled breakfast on the bedside table beside you, clambering over you to settle himself on the bed, his hair still sleep-tousled, his eyes excited like a child.

'I’m awake,’ you reassured him, reaching over to scruff up his hair even more, laughing when he butted his head against your hand like a cat.  'Merry Christmas to you too!’

'What do you want first?  Presents or food?’

'Presents, duh!’ you scoffed, eyeing up the packages that he’d placed beside you, easing yourself up into a sitting position, leaning back against the wall.  'Gimme, gimme, gimme!’

You’d done Secret Santa as a house before everyone had left for the holidays, but you’d gotten Negan something extra as well, feeling warm and fuzzy that he’d obviously thought to do the same.  

He handed over the biggest of the two presents first, watching with slight concern in his eyes as you held it in your hands, running your fingers over the smooth red paper.  'What is it?’

'Open it and fucking find out!’  

You tore eagerly into it, finding a hardback novel inside by an author you’d never heard of.  You flipped it over, your eyes scanning over the blurb, happy to see that it sounded right up your street.  

'I told the girl in the bookshop the author’s I could remember seeing you lugging round with you, and she recommended it.  I can take it back if you-’

'Negan, this is great.  Thank you!’  He smiled in relief and you reached over to squeeze his hand.  'Okay, next!’

He handed you the smaller parcel, waiting as you once again ripped the paper away, finding a small tube of what looked like lotion, hand-labelled in neat silver calligraphy.  Negan took it from you and unscrewed the lid, squeezing a tiny amount onto his fingertip and holding it under your nose.  It smelt amazing, floral but not over-poweringly so, just a hint of sweetness.  'It’s supposed to be calming or some shit.  You rub it in your temples when you’re stressed and it’s supposed to soothe you.  I’ve noticed that you rub your temples when you’re studying sometimes anyway, so I figured…  I found it in some wacky herbal shop in town.’  

He took the dot of cream on his thumb and dabbed it over the sensitive spots above your eyes, massaging it in lightly.  

'That’s…  You notice things like that?’

'I notice a lot of fucking things about you, sweetheart.’  

You swallowed hard at the feel of his fingertips dancing over your face, the thought of his eyes on you, watching you without you realising.  'Well, I love it, Negan.  Thank you.’

You leaned down and pulled out the bottom drawer of your bedside table, careful not to disturb the breakfast tray, tugging out a couple of neatly wrapped gifts.  'Here!  Your turn!’

The first present that you handed open didn’t really need to be unwrapped for Negan to know what it was, but he still took pleasure in peeling back the paper to reveal a bottle of his favourite whiskey.  'Is this just a ploy to get me to stop coming and disturbing you at work?’

You laughed at him, slapping his arm playfully.  'Shut up!  I just wanted to get something I knew you’d like!’

The second parcel that you handed to him was squidgier, and when he tore it open to reveal a soft, charcoal grey v-neck sweater, his eyes lit up.  'This is great, doll.  Thank you.’

You returned his smile, relieved that he liked it.  'I just hope it fits.  I wasn’t sure of the size.’  Your eyes drifted over his broad shoulders and down over his chest, lingering over the wrinkles of his t-shirt where it tapered in to his narrow waist.  Negan surprised you by tugging the shirt off and tossing it to one side, revealing acres of tanned skin, dark hair curling over his chest and down his toned stomach, disappearing in a trail beneath his waistband, before slipping his arms into the sweater and pulling it over his head.  It fit perfectly, skimming over his muscles, and you couldn’t take your eyes off of him, your mouth dry as he slid a finger underneath your chin and tilted your head up to meet his gaze.

'My eyes are up here, doll,’ he smirked, and you felt your cheeks burst into flame as you realised he’d noticed your greedy stare.

'Sorry,’ you murmured, trying to pull yourself together.  'I’m just… I’m glad it fits.’

'It’s fucking perfect, sweetheart.  Thank you.’  He leant down and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, your breath hitching in your throat as his musky smell enveloped you.

'You’re welcome.’  As he pulled away, you reached over for the breakfast tray, fighting every cell in your body that wanted to move towards him, to reach out and touch him, sliding your hands under the soft knit of the jumper and threading your fingers into his chest hair.  'Presents and breakfast in bed?  This is seriously the best Christmas ever.’

He grinned at you, reaching over to snag a croissant and biting into it, scattering crumbs over your bedding.  You took your time with yours, nibbling at it as you talked about your families and what they would be doing in their own homes right now.  

When you’d finished eating, and your mugs were drained of coffee, you rolled out of bed, padding over to grab your towel from where it hung on the radiator.  'I’m gonna take a shower.’

'Alright, doll.’  Negan also stood, grabbing his discarded t-shirt and bottle of whiskey and slipping past you into the corridor.  'I’ll be downstairs.  Anything in particular you want to do today?’

'As little as possible.  This is now my only day off work over the break!’

'Bad TV, alcohol and a shit-ton of food then?’

'Perfect.’

When you’d showered, and pulled on a pair of checked pyjama pants, and a tank top, towel drying your hair and sweeping it over your shoulder, you mooched downstairs to find Negan, your new book clutched against your chest.  He had slicked his hair back, but was still in his trackies and new jumper, and you were glad that you were on the same page when it came to appropriate Christmas day attire.  He was in the kitchen when you found him, bunging handfuls of chopped tomatoes into a large pan on the hob.  

'Do you need any help?’

'Nah, you’re alright, doll.’  He glanced up at you, smiling.  'I got everything ready last night.  I’m just sticking it on nice and low so it cooks down real slow for us.’

'What’s it gonna be?’

'Spaghetti bolognese!’ he announced, adding a generous glug of red wine to the pan.  'My fucking specialty!’

'Sounds good to me,’ you giggled.  'You sure I can’t do anything though?’

'You just sit your pretty ass down, and enjoy the sight of me slaving away for you, sweetheart.’

You slipped into a comfortable silence, as Negan moved around the kitchen.  You slid into a chair at the table and flipped open your book, starting to read as the chef hummed quietly.  The house was peaceful with just the two of you here, and you couldn’t help but feel it was a vast improvement from the usual chaos.  You could definitely get used to this.

 

* * *

 

The sweet scent of tomatoes and herbs filled the ground floor of the house as you sat slumped on the sofa, poking at your swollen stomach drowsily as Negan sank down beside you, turning to stretch out and rest his head in your lap.

'Oh my Lord,’ you groaned.  'Why did you let me eat so much?’

You’d feasted on huge, steaming bowls of pasta, the sauce thick and rich, mopped up with salad leaves and hunks of crusty garlic bread, and washed down with the remains of the bottle of wine.  Pudding was an apple pie, made to Negan’s mom’s recipe, served with ice cream, the sweetness balancing out the tartness of the fruit.  It had been a luxurious and indulgent meal, and you’d eaten until you were completely stuffed and had to crawl to the sofa because you couldn’t bring yourself to carry your bulk on your feet. 

'Like I could’ve fucking stopped you, doll,’ Negan chuckled, prodding your tummy and earning himself a sharp jab in the ribs.  

'Damn, you can really cook.’

'Why, thank you!’

You smirked at his cocky grin, sliding further down in your seat, your eyes closing as the warm weight in your stomach lulled you to sleep.  

When you woke up, the light was fading, casting the room into shadow.  Negan was still napping, and had turned so that his face was pressed against your tummy, nuzzling into the soft folds of your tank top.  You couldn’t help yourself, threading your hands into his hair, teasing it between your fingertips, working out the product so that it lost its hold, and his soft curls became tousled under your touch.

You felt him shift against your legs, and a loud purr rumbled up his throat, as he stretched.  'Mmm, doll, that’s relaxing as shit.’

'Yeah?’  You smiled, running your nails lightly over his scalp.  'You like that, huh?’

'Fucking love it.’

He reached for the remote, flicking on the TV and bathing the living room in its soft light, letting out a grumble of discontent when your hands fell still.

You remained in that position for most of the evening, watching cheesy Christmas TV and giggling at the awfulness of it, reminiscing about Christmas traditions you’d had as children, until you eventually caved and ventured into the kitchen to dig into the selection of biscuits and chocolate that Negan had brought back from his last-minute supermarket trawl.  Negan cracked open his bottle of whiskey, and you took turns to pour fingers into the two glasses that he’d fetched, alternating between knocking back the shots of fiery liquid and sipping delicately at it, savouring the burn as it warmed your body from the inside out.

'Y'know,’ you slurred, leaning heavily into Negan’s side.  'This has been completely perfect.’

'Yes, it fucking has,’ Negan agreed, his eyes slightly unfocused as he gazed down at you.  'Thank you, doll, for being exceptional company as always.’

'Thank you for changing all your plans for me.  I still can’t believe you did it.’

'Shit, sweetheart,’ he muttered as his hand came up to stroke across your cheekbone.  'I meant what I fucking said.  I’d do anything for you.’

You smiled, leaning up to press a woozy kiss to his cheek, though your aim was off in your drunken state and you caught the corner of his mouth, lingering there as you realised your mistake.  'Shit, sorry.’

'Don’t be.’

His gaze was boring into you, and you rolled your eyes as you shoved him playfully away.  'Stop it.’

'What?  What was that look for?’

'You keep doing that.’

'Doing what?’

'Looking at me like you want to kiss me.’

'Maybe I do.’

'Why?’  You realised you were holding your breath as you waited for him to answer, the air between you thick with anticipation and desire.  His hands weaved into your hair as he contemplated the question, his thumbs rubbing circles on the sensitive skin behind your ears.  'Negan…’

A shrill ring pierced the air, cutting the moment short, as Negan shifted away from you to reach for the receiver on the table beside him.

'Hello?  Hey Mom, Merry Christmas! No, it’s okay, I’m still up…’

You sighed.  Leaving him to talk to his family, you staggered upstairs to your room, suddenly very tired.  You shimmied out of your trousers as you made to crawl onto your bed but were brought up short by the mess of wrapping paper and pastry crumbs littering your mattress.  Decisively, you turned towards the door, crossing the hallway and burying yourself under Negan’s blankets, wrapping yourself up in the smell of him.  You could hear footsteps climbing the stairs, and smiled at the man that appeared in the doorway, lounging against the frame and taking in the snuggled up figure in his bed.  

'This isn’t your room, sweetheart.’

'You dropped crumbs in my bed.’

'So, you’re stealing mine?’

You considered this for a moment before shaking your head.  'No, I’m just borrowing it for the night.  We can share, right?’  

He nodded, grinning at you as he pulled back the covers, hesitating as he took in your bare legs, his gaze scorching a trail up your body until he met your eyes, swallowing hard as he sunk down into the bed beside you, pulling his jumper up and over his head and discarding it on the floor.

As he lay down and pulled the blankets back over the both of you, he reached out an arm and pulled you in for a cuddle, flinching as your cold limbs tangled with his own.  'Fuck me, doll, you’re freezing.’

'And you’re lovely and warm,’ you whined, clinging to him more tightly, enjoying the feeling of his bare chest pressing against you, running your fingers through the fine hair and tugging on it gently.  You felt a growl emanate from him, and you avoided looking at his face, losing yourself in the moment as you ghosted your fingers down his spine, mapping his body with your hands.  His fingers trailed up your thigh, hitching it up to wrap around his waist, his breath hot against your skin, growing heavier as you ran your nails lightly down his stomach.  

'Negan…’  Your voice was husky and thick with alcohol.  When you finally raised your head to look at him, his eyes were closed, and he was shaking his head.

'No, doll, we can’t do this.  Not like this.’

'But-’

'No, Y/N,’ he hushed you, though his fingers were still stroking feather-light patterns over your leg, playing havoc with your nerve endings.  'You’re so fucking wasted, sweetheart, and, shit, I couldn’t live with myself if you did something you regretted.’  

Feeling embarrassed, you started to pull away from him, but his strong arms held you in place.  'Hey, I didn’t say you could fucking move.’

'But you said-’

'I just meant, this is enough tonight, alright?  Just let me fucking hold you for a while.’

You nodded, shifting even closer to him so that your bodies were flush against each other, adjusting your leg to sit more comfortably above his hipbone.  'This is enough?’

'Not if you keep fucking fidgeting like that,’ he muttered into your hair, as he buried his face in it, one hand creeping up to wind into the lengths that were spread across the pillow.  

You giggled, wriggling a little more just to tease.

'Perfect end to a perfect fucking day,’ he sighed.  

'Mmhmm.’  Your eyelids were growing heavier as you relaxed into him, and, minutes later, you drifted into a deep and contented sleep.

 

* * *

 

_Now…_

When you opened your door the next morning, Simon was standing before you, clutching your boots in his hand.  'Believe you left these behind last night, sweetheart,’ he smirked at you.  

'Thanks.’  You took them from him, and bent to pull them on, grateful that you didn’t have to return to Negan’s room to collect them as you’d originally planned.  Standing again, you moved past him, ready to head downstairs to breakfast, but his hand shot out and wrapped around your wrist, stilling you.

'I have some news for you.’

'Yeah?’

'Yeah.  Negan’s decided that you do need a job assignment after all.’

You couldn’t fight the smile that spread over your face.  'Oh, he has, has he?  Well, what is it then?’  You were glad that, in the harsh light of day, he’d kept his word from last night, and that you were finally going to be able to have a role in the larger Sanctuary community, that you would finally have a purpose and a reason to get up in the mornings.

Simon’s smirk only increased, as he stepped towards you, his eyes cruel and taunting.  'Congratulations, honey.  Looks like you’re Negan’s new personal assistant.

'What?’  That was exactly the opposite of what you wanted, and your excitement turned to anger as you realised that Negan had played you again.  'That asshole…’

You shoved past Simon, determined to confront the head Savior, even if you had to break down his door to do it, but your guard still had a tight hold of your arm.  'He’s not in there.’

'Well, where the hell is he?  I need to talk to him.’

'You’ll see him after breakfast,’ Simon assured you as he finally released you from his grip and began to move along the corridor.  'Everyone’s to assemble in the central hall at eight sharp so he can address his people.’

'Why?’  You were confused.  You’d never seen Negan pull everyone from their work before, but you supposed it made sense if he had news to communicate.  'What’s going on?’

'Someone’s getting punished,’ he announced, shoving you ahead of him so that you couldn’t slip away from him on the stairs as you’d done the day before.  'And, if he wants everyone there to see it, it’s not gonna be pretty!’


	9. Chapter 9

You choked your breakfast down as best you could, barely tasting it as you replayed Simon’s words outside your room.  Negan was going to punish somebody today, and he wanted all of you to witness it.  It didn’t add up at all with the person you’d known back in college, the sweet man who’d looked after you and protected you, even if it had ultimately ended in heartache.  You had seen a glimpse of that man last night, so you knew he was in there somewhere, buried deep, only allowed out when he was comfortable with someone he trusted.

Maybe it won’t be so bad, you told yourself.  Maybe you’d built it up so much in your head that you’d turned the punishment into something far worse than it was.  Isolated from the rest of the community, you hadn’t spoken to anyone about what treatment was dished out for those who broke the rules, and you knew that Simon had had his nose put out of joint by your close relationship with Negan, so maybe he was just trying to scare you.  But you could tell by the hushed whispers and tense body language of those around you that that wasn’t the case.  The community as a whole was nervous and the atmosphere was so tense that it felt as though it might shatter at any moment.

At five minutes to eight, everyone still seated in the canteen rose as one, as if an alarm had sounded, and began to file out of the exits, heading towards the great hall.  Although you’d never felt comfortable at the Sanctuary, always on edge, unsure of yourself, you had never known the mood to be as sombre as it felt in that moment.  People were walking with their heads bowed, avoiding eye contact with each other, hands clasping hands as couples, families and friends clung together.  Everywhere you looked you could see pale faces, wide eyes fixed on the ground, and frightened expressions, as if each of them were walking to their own personal doom.  It was that that led you to understand that the Sanctuary truly was a community.  Every person there was from a different walk of life, at different levels of the hierarchy within that building, and yet they knew one another: they passed each other in the halls and exchanged greetings; they made small talk in the marketplace and over meals; they watched each other grow and age; and now they had to watch one of their own suffer at the hands of their leader.

More than anything, you found yourself wanting to be a part of these people’s lives, to be a part of this little society, and again you cursed Negan for ripping that opportunity away from you.  His personal assistant?  Really?  What the hell could he need a personal assistant for?  He seemed to have managed without one so far.  It was just another way of controlling you, of keeping you close, and you sure as hell weren’t going to make that easy for him.  There was a reason that you hadn’t spoken or laid eyes on each other for so long and, though it was hard to remember when he was grinning mischievously at you or pinning you to the spot with his seductive stare, it was because he’d wanted more from you than you could give, more than he deserved.  You hadn’t given in then, and you sure as hell weren’t going to give in now.  

The crowd was now trooping in to the great hall, which you recognised as the room you’d first been brought to the night that you’d first joined the Sanctuary, with its high metal catwalk, and your memory flashed back to the sight of Negan standing at the top, turning to survey the newcomers with a malicious glint in his eye.  You hadn’t recognised the malice behind it then, but you could see it now, now that you had a better understanding of how he ran the place, and you wondered what your group’s greeting would have been like had you not been there, throwing him off his game.  The very fact that you were all gathered in the hall that morning to witness a public punishment proved, to you at least, that he took some obscene sadistic pleasure in using his power to produce a spectacle, in ruling through fear and manipulation.  Despite the way he’d treated you in the later stages of your relationship, you still couldn’t equate the head Savior with the man you thought you knew, but you were having to swallow your instincts and accept that this very gathering was proof that, no matter what small glimpse you saw of him the night before, that man was long gone.  

As you moved around the crowd, staying towards the back, but moving deeper into the room, you could see that the fireplace that you’d observed on that first evening was more like a furnace, a roaring fire contained within, as Dwight stoked the flames, his stringy hair hanging forward over his face.  Several feet away from the heart of the heat, two Saviors stood beside a wooden chair where a man sat, hunched over, trembling as he buried his face in his hands.  The crowd had left a wide circle around them, and you knew then that this was where the punishment would take place.  

A loud clang from above silenced the room, and you craned your neck to see Negan at the top of the stairs, his baseball bat hanging from his fingers, resting against the metal walkway.  He started to speak as he descended the steps, moving through the crowd until he was beside his victim.

‘You all know we have fucking rules here.  I hope you all know that those rules are in place for a fucking reason.  What is that reason?  Because without them, people die.  Now, I don’t expect much from my people.  I don’t think I ask a fucking lot in return for the safety and security that I provide behind these walls.  Shit, if any of you want to disagree with me, please, say your fucking piece…  I didn’t think so.  So, when someone falls fucking short of what I expect from them, I have to fucking deal with them as I see fit so that they learn their fucking lesson.  And, ladies and gentlemen, someone, I’m sorry to say, has fallen really fucking short.’  He paused for dramatic effect, laying his hand on the shoulder of the man before him who cowered away from his touch.  'This is Scott.  Now, I think most of you probably know Scott, don’t you?  You probably think he’s a fine, upstanding member of this community, and up until yesterday, I would’ve fucking agreed with you.  But Scott here, he’s let me down, he’s let himself down, and he’s sure as shit let all of you down.  See, Scott’s been stealing from me, from us.  He’s been sneaking away supplies that he’s picked up on his runs, squirreling them away outside of these walls.  Why?  Well, who the heck knows.  You planning on running away, Scott?  You planning on taking those supplies and heading off into the fucking sunset?  Not on my fucking watch!’  

He was roaring with anger now, spittle flying out of his mouth as his face reddened, before he took a deep breath to calm himself.  'You might ask how I know this.  Where did I get my proof that the lovely Scott here is as big a shitbag as I’m telling you he is?  Well, you see, folks, yesterday Scott fucked up big time, because, while my men stopped for quick piss-break on the way back from a run, he snuck off into the woods to hide the shit he’d stolen from me.  And while he was out there, my men were attacked by a herd of walkers and one of them got killed.  Now, I’m not saying that with Scott there, Liam wouldn’t have become a fucking happy meal for the undead, but, if you ask me, it’s safety in fucking numbers out there, and they didn’t have the fucking numbers to keep everyone safe because Scott was too busy stealing my shit!’

He’d been circling Scott, eyeing him up like a predator eyes up its prey before pouncing, but now he stopped and looked to Dwight who gave a slight nod.  'Well, I thought about throwing you out, Scott, because honest to fuck, I don’t need people in here that I can’t fucking trust, but then I thought, what the hell happened to second chances, right?  So, it’s your fucking lucky day!  You get to stay here, behind my walls, safe from the big scary outside world.  But I’m gonna make sure you learn from your fucking mistakes, Scotty boy, yes I am.  I’m gonna make sure nobody here can fucking forget what you did, that not one person in this place can forget that when you fuck up there are fucking consequences, do you understand me?’

Scott whimpered his agreement, but this wasn’t enough for Negan and he turned to his audience, spreading his arms wide, his bat extended into the air.  'I said, do you fucking understand?’

The crowd chorused a nervous, ‘Yes!’ which seemed to satisfy him, and he turned towards the furnace, taking a long insulated glove from Dwight and reaching into the flames.  You couldn’t help the gasp of shock that left your lips, as he drew out a heavy metal iron, the old-fashioned kind that you remembered your great-grandma having when you were a kid, rejecting all of the new-fangled technology.  It was glowing with heat as Negan brandished it, a sick smile spreading across his face as his eyes lit up with twisted glee.  You knew what was going to happen next, you could see it playing out in front of your eyes and you couldn’t stop it.  You tried to raise your hands to your face, to block the sight out as you were unable to tear your gaze away from the horrific scene, but Simon stepped behind you, taking a hold of your wrists and forcing you to watch.

A gut-wrenching scream left Scott as Negan brought the iron down against the side of his face, holding it in place as the skin beneath sizzled and burned.  The smell turned your stomach and you had to fight against the nausea rising in your throat as time seemed to stop, the people around you disappearing until all you could see was the perverse pleasure on Negan’s face as he tortured the poor man beneath him, refusing to step away until he had passed out from the pain.  You knew it was an image that you would be haunted by for the rest of your life, and you turned your head away when Negan finally removed the iron from Scott’s cheek, strings of gore sticking to the metal surface until he wrenched it roughly away, peeling the skin from the unconscious man’s face.  

You couldn’t be there any longer, tugging your wrists free of Simon’s grip and heading for the nearest door, throwing it open with no regard for how much attention you must be drawing to yourself, and stepping out into the courtyard, taking greedy gulps of fresh air.  Staggering forward a few paces, you fell to your knees and vomited violently onto the ground, tears streaming down your face as you wretched, over and over.  When you had nothing left to come up, you slumped to the side, feeling empty and angry and disgusted.  More than anything you wanted to get out, to slip away and leave this awful place, and never lay eyes on Negan again, but you knew he’d never allow it.  You were trapped.

‘You alright, doll?’

His gravelly voice behind you made you freeze with fear.  You couldn’t turn and look at him, wouldn’t meet his eyes, and when you felt his fingers curl around your arm you yanked it away.  'Don’t touch me.’

‘What the fuck’s your problem?’

‘How can you even ask me that after….’  You couldn’t finish the sentence, couldn’t put words to the nightmare that you’d just witnessed.  You just wanted him to leave you alone.

‘After what?  That in there?  It’s fucking necessary, sweetheart.  You’ll realise that, the more time you spend here.’

'Necessary?’  You staggered to your feet, finally turning to face him, your voice full of venom.  'I will never, ever, believe that what you just did was necessary.  You’re a fucking bully, Negan.’

'I’m a leader.  I do what needs to be done.’

'No,’ you spat at him.  'You get off on it.  What sort of twisted creep have you become?’

You saw him fighting an internal battle with himself, guessing that he was tempted to take a good swing at you with his bat, but instead he took a deep breath and turned away.

'I want you in my office in five minutes.’

'Go to hell.’

'You wanted a job, well, that’s your fucking job.  You’re my assistant now, which means you do as I fucking say.  My office.  Five minutes.’

'Or what?’

'Or else.’


	10. Chapter 10

_Before…_

‘Argh!’  You growled in frustration, hurling your textbook across the room where it crashed against the door and fell to the carpet with a thud.  You tore the top page from your notebook, balling it up in your hands and throwing that to the floor too.  'This is ridiculous!’

‘You alright in there, doll?’  You heard the creak of the floorboard in the hall outside your room, before Negan’s face peered tentatively around the doorframe.  

‘No,’ you huffed, throwing yourself back against your pillows, adding ‘You can come in,’ when Negan didn’t move.

‘Are you sure?  I wasn’t sure if anything else was gonna get chucked in my direction.’

You snorted, and threw your pen at him, but he caught it easily, twirling it between his fingers as he crossed to the bed and perched on the edge. ‘What’s the fucking problem, sweetheart?’

‘This project,’ you grumbled, thrusting a piece of paper into his hands and watching as his eyes skimmed over the print, his brow furrowing.  'It’s stupid and impossible, and there’s no way I’m not gonna fail.’  The grade was dependent on the quality of the project itself, plus a presentation that you would have to give to your classmates, explaining the work you’d done.  Presentations had never been your strong point, and the thought of having to stand before your peers and discuss your work was making it problematic to get anything down on the page.  

'Shit, doll, it’s a tricky fucker for sure, but it’s not impossible.’  He shifted to lay beside you, stretching his long legs out and tucking one arm behind his head.  'You’ve done harder assignments than this.’

'Maybe, but not worth a quarter of my final grade this semester, and not that I have to stand up and talk about it front of the whole class,’ you whined.  'I’m not good at speaking in front of that many people!’

'And yet you wanna be a teacher?’ Negan looked at you quizzically.  'You realise that that’s gonna involve standing up in front of a class of kids every day and, y'know, speaking to them.’

'That’s different.’

'How exactly?’

'Because in that scenario I’d definitely be the smartest person in the room!’

'Not necessarily,’ Negan smirked at you and you elbowed him in the ribs.  'Alright, alright, I’m sorry.  Come on, I’ve got nothing better to do today.  I’ll help you out, okay?’

'Really?  Did you take this module?’

'Nah, but I did something similar.  Now, pull yourself together, doll, and we can crack this out by the end of the day and head out for dinner, what d'you think?’

You’d thought that was a little optimistic and it turned out that you were right.  By six in the evening, you’d changed your subject three times and were still no closer to actually getting anything coherent down on paper.  Negan, true to his word, had been helping you out all day, providing a sounding board for any ideas you wanted to talk over, chiming in with suggestions that he thought might help.  Right about the time you’d decided to throw a massive hissy fit over your lack of progress, Negan had announced that he was going for pizza and made a quick getaway, leaving you to panic quietly in your room.

You banged your head against the wall behind your bed, feeling the knot in your stomach growing bigger.  You hated being in this position, leaving assignments until the last minute, but Christmas had left you short of cash, and you’d taken on a lot of extra shifts at the bar, the hours eating into your study time.  You felt bad that you’d wasted Negan’s entire day as he’d sat beside you and watched you achieve absolutely nothing, despite his attempts to help.  Squeezing your eyes shut, you fought the exhaustion that threatened to drag you into unconsciousness.  Resigning yourself to failure, you reached once more for your notebook and began to scribble away in earnest, determined to get something down on paper even if it was just whatever sprang into your head.

By the time Negan returned, a couple of large pizza boxes balanced in one hand, a bottle of whiskey clasped in the other, you’d covered both sides of twelve sheets, and were reading over them and clutching big handfuls of your hair in desperation.  

'Hey, doll, that looks like progress.’

'Then looks are deceptive cos it’s crap!’ you snapped, tossing the pad to one side and rubbing your eyes, stinging from the intense period of concentration.

'I’ll bet it’s not.’

'You might wanna read it before you make any bets.’

Depositing dinner on the end of the bed, he reached over and grabbed the pad, settling down beside you as he started to scan over your untidy scrawl.  'Shit, sweetheart, this is good.  This is really good.’

'It’s not!’ you cried, snatching your work back from him and beginning to re-read it yourself.  'How am I supposed to stand up and present this to a room full of people, Negan?’

'Okay, doll, here’s what we’re gonna do.’  He paused, waiting until you sat up and nodded at him.  'You’re gonna take five minutes to read over what you’ve done here, and let yourself see that it’s actually not crap.’

'But-’

He held his hand up to silence you.  'Then you’re gonna stand over there, and you’re gonna present it to me.’

'Okay, that is not happening.’

'Why the fuck not?’

'Because it’s embarrassing, Negan!’

'No, it’s not.  You know I won’t judge you, Y/N.  I promise.’

'I don’t know.’

'Please.  You trust me, right?’

’ I do, but-’

'Then let’s go.  Get reading!’

You sighed as he reached for one of the pizza boxes, flipping it open and grabbing a slice, sticking out his tongue to catch the trail of melted cheese that dripped from the tip.  The sight was slightly hypnotic, and you had to force yourself to look away and focus on your handwriting.  Maybe it wasn’t as bad as you’d thought, you realised as you turned over the pages, but you still didn’t love the idea of having to talk it through with a class full of people.  

'You ready, doll?  I need some fucking dinner entertainment.’

'Okay.’  You crawled off of the bed, snagging a bite of his pizza as you climbed over him, and stood to attention beside your wardrobe, clutching your notes in your shaking hand.

'Hey.’ Negan stood, dumping his food back in the box and rubbing his greasy hands over the legs of his trousers, before placing them on your shoulders.  'You gotta relax, okay?  Here, stand like this.’  He stood tall, pushing his shoulders back, his legs slightly parted.

You mirrored him and he nodded in satisfaction.  'That’s it.  If you’re not confident, you gotta try and look fucking confident.  It’s half the battle.  Now, keep your eyes focused on…’  He paused as he scanned the wall of your bedroom for a focal point.  'That chip in the paint up there, okay?  In the lecture hall, it’ll just look like you’re talking to the people in the back, but you’ll actually be looking over their heads.  No eyes up there!  Alright?’

'Alright.  Okay, I can do this.’  With Negan’s coaching you were already feeling more sure of yourself, and, as he perched on the edge of the bed, you launched into your speech.  You tripped over your words, repeating a couple of sentences when you lost your place, but as you found your flow, you caught yourself pausing to explain a couple of theories, straying away from the words on your page, before jumping back in exactly where you’d left off.

When you’d finished, a slow clap from Negan tore your gaze away from the little patch of flaking paint on the wall, and you grinned at him.  'That was fucking awesome as shit, doll!’

'It was?’

'Fuck yeah, I wouldn’t want to be the person having to follow that performance.’

You sank down onto his lap, and wrapped an arm around his neck.  'Thank you.  I don’t think I’d have gotten this done without you.’

Negan propped his knees up to support your weight, lifting your feet off the floor as he cradled you against his chest.  'Don’t worry about it, sweetheart.  I’m proud of you for getting it done!’

'Well, I’ve still got to get through the real thing tomorrow.’

'You’ll do great.  I have faith in you.’

You kissed his cheek, nuzzling your nose against the scratchy stubble.  'So do I when I’ve got you as a coach.  Your students are gonna be really lucky.’

He snorted.  'I guess today was good practice, huh?’

You twisted round on his legs so that you could scramble up the bed, grabbing a slice of pizza as you went.  'I guess you could say I did you a favor then, right?’

'Oh, don’t push it, doll.  You owe me.’

 

* * *

 

A couple of hours later, both pizza boxes were empty, and Negan was sipping on the remnants of the whiskey as you groaned beside him.  

'Oh God, I’ve eaten way too much.’  You stretched your tank top over your stomach and prodded at the swollen bump.  'I actually look like I’m having a baby.’

'Nah,’ Negan scoffed, shaking his head at you as he dropped the empty bottle to the floor.  'You look fucking gorgeous, as always.’

'Shut up.’  You nudged his leg with your knee, before letting out another load moan.  'Negan, why did you let me eat so much?’

'I feel like we’ve had this conversation before,’ he chuckled, reaching over to poke at your stomach, and grunting as your elbow dug into his ribs.  'Yep, definite deja vu.’

'Oh man, this is nowhere near as bad as Christmas.  I honestly thought I was going to explode.’

'It was a fucking awesome Christmas though.’

'Yeah, it was.’

You both fell silent for a moment, before he rolled towards you, stroking a hand over your waist as he pulled you onto your side to face him.  'So, we never really talked about what happened that night, did we, doll?’

You felt heat rising in your cheeks as you avoided his gaze, picking at a loose thread on your blanket with your nails.  'Nothing happened, did it?’

'Don’t get fucking cute with me, doll.  What almost happened then, if you’re gonna be picky about it.’

'We were just drunk, that’s all.  There’s nothing to talk about.’

'Well, that’s not strictly true, is it, sweetheart?’ he sighed, sliding a hand under your chin and forcing you to look at him.  'Maybe it was just me, but I wanted to kiss you all damn day.  The alcohol just meant that you were less likely to slap the shit out of me when I did it.’

'Then why didn’t you?’

'I don’t know,’ he admitted.  'I realised how fucking wasted you were, and it just…  It didn’t feel right after that.’

You nodded, feeling your skin tingle under his fingertips as he ran them over your cheek.  'I wouldn’t have slapped you.’

'You wouldn’t?’

'No.’

'Even before I got you hammered?’

'Even then.’

As he spoke, you found your eyes drawn to his lips, soft and pink and inviting, his tongue snaking out to wet them before he spoke again.  'What about now?’

'I thought you didn’t want to kiss me when I’m wasted.’

'It’s not fucking ideal, I’m not gonna lie, but I don’t think I can wait much longer.  Unless…’

'Unless what?’ you rasped, your voice thick with need, your vision swimming as he leaned in closer to you, his hand sliding to the back of your neck.  

'Well, you didn’t answer my question.’

'What question?’  You’d lost track of the conversation, the anticipation dominating your senses, making it hard to focus on anything he was saying.  

'Would you slap me if I kissed you now?’

'Negan, please.’

'Y/N…’

His mouth met yours, a delicious contrast of velvety lips and scratchy stubble, making your skin sing.  His kisses were gentle but firm, as he measured your reaction, still half expecting you to pull away, but instead you clung to him, lacing your fingers into his hair and holding his face to yours, whimpering when he broke away from you to take a breath.

'Wow,’ you sighed, leaning your forehead against his as you panted lightly, breathless with desire.  'Wow.’

Negan moved to kiss you again, humming gently as he tantalised you, teasing your lips with his tongue before sinking into you, growing more demanding, as his hand slid to your thigh and hitched it up around his waist, groaning as you shuffled closer to him, so that every inch of your bodies were pressed together, the heat between you causing your skin to glow with warmth.  You squirmed against him as he rolled over you, pinning you to the mattress as he kissed down your neck and nibbled at the sensitive skin above your collarbone.  Your hands slid under his shirt, exploring the toned muscles and tugging lightly at his chest hair, before shifting it up to try and pull it over his head, but his fingers weaved through yours to stop you.

'Hey, slow down, doll.’  At your hurt expression, he smiled, leaning down to capture your mouth again.  'I’ve broken my rule about kissing you when you’re drunk, but that’s enough for tonight, okay?’

'Enough for you maybe,’ you grumbled, though you couldn’t fight the giggle that escaped you when you felt him smile against your lips.  

'I promise you, I can kiss you a million different fucking ways, sweetheart.  I can make it enough for tonight.’

And he did.  He kissed you until the early hours of the morning, eliciting soft moans and sighs from you as his lips moved over your skin, every nerve ending on fire as he devoured you.  You wrapped yourself around him, clutching at his hair, his arms, his waist, forever trying to pull him closer, to hold him tighter, sure that you had never been kissed so thoroughly before in your life.  When you finally dozed off, with glazed eyes and swollen lips, it was with his arms locked around you, holding you against his chest, the rhythm of his heartbeat penetrating your dreams.

 

* * *

 

You cleared your throat nervously, your mouth dry, your eyes prickling with tiredness, making it almost impossible to focus on the words in front of you.  You could feel the gaze of your classmates boring into you as you stood before them, willing yourself to begin, but unable to find the confidence that you’d found in your room with Negan just yesterday.  As your eyes scanned your audience, you were distracted by the creak of a door opening somewhere in the back, and you watched as a tall, familiar figure crept in to lean against the wall.

You’d left him in bed that morning, still sleeping, as you tiptoed around your room, getting ready to head out to class.  Your whole body felt heavy with exhaustion, your lips kiss-bruised, and your anxiety about the presentation had come back twice as strong now that you were facing it on two hours of rest and with one hell of a hangover.

You watched as Negan pulled himself up straight, thrusting his shoulders back and nodding at you, encouraging you to mirror his stance, flicking two of his fingers between his eyes and yours, mouthing the words that you knew would be, 'Focus on me.’ You could do this.

Taking a deep breath, you swallowed, and began.

 

* * *

 

_Now…_

As you made your way to Negan’s office, you fought to rid yourself of the images of the punishment that were burned into your brain.  You wondered where Scott was now, supposing the doctor was tending to him, and hoping that, somehow, he’d manage to get over what had been done to him.

'Come on, sweetheart.’  Simon reached up to rub your shoulder, having joined in the courtyard shortly after Negan had stormed off, escorting you to your room so that you could change and get cleaned up before heading to start your first day at your new job.  'Don’t look so traumatised.  It’s not the first time Negan’s ironed someone, and it won’t be the last.’

'What happens to them?’ you managed to choke out.  'To the people that have been punished like that?’

'They’re all around you!’ Simon announced, surprised that you’d managed to miss this.  'They just carry on as normal, get on with their lives, but you can be damn sure they’ll never break the rules again.’

'Where?’ you pushed, not remembering seeing anyone with a face as hideously scarred as you were sure that Scott’s would be.

'Well, Dwight for a start.’

'Dwight got ironed?’

'Hell yeah,’ Simon nodded.  'Ran away with one of Negan’s wives and a shit-ton of supplies.  S'why he wears his hair so long these days.’

'I didn’t even notice.’

You fell into silence again as you turned the corner and Negan’s office came into sight.

'How am I supposed to do this, Simon?’ you breathed, having to fight to keep your feet moving, wanting desperately to turn and flee back to your room.  'How am I supposed to face him?’

'He’s doing what needs to be done.  You can’t judge the man for that.’

'Can’t I?’

'He keeps people alive, Y/N.  That’s what you need to focus on.’  He gave you a gentle shove forwards, waiting until you raised your fist to knock tentatively against the door, before turning on his heel and leaving you alone.


	11. Chapter 11

The door in front of you was wrenched open, bringing you face-to-face with the last man on earth that you wanted to see in that moment.  His glare was intense, his eyes narrowed, his lips drawn into a thin line, as he waited for you to react.  He was expecting you to kick off, to scream at him and give him hell, and you’d be lying if you said that it hadn’t been your intention, but now that he was standing before you, you realised that you couldn’t do it.  You’d be ranting and raving at a man who didn’t exist anymore, a man you held to higher standards of behaviour.  You looked at Negan standing in the doorway, his baseball bat clenched in his fist, and realised that this wasn’t him.  This was a stranger.

When you didn’t speak, Negan stepped aside, motioning for you to enter, and you slipped past him into the room, positioning yourself beside his desk.  You felt him walk up behind you, brushing against your arm as he moved round you to perch on the edge of the mahogany surface, gesturing for you to take a seat in one of the chairs in front of him.  

‘So, doll, we gonna talk about this or what?’

‘There’s nothing to talk about.  Now, if you just give me a run down on what my duties are going to involve, I’ll get on with my job.’

‘Duties?  What the fuck are you on about?’

'You wanted me to be your P.A. right?  That’s why I’m here?’

'Well, yeah, but-’

'So, if you’ll just let me know what you’d like me to do first, I’ll get started.’

You could see that his body had tensed, unsure how to react to this cool, distant version of you.

'Alright.’  He reached behind you and handed you a ledger with a large wad of loose papers tucked in the front.  'Those are the intake sheets for every run my men have done in the last six months.  The ledger should have the stock levels in the warehouse, and what’s been used or traded so far.  I want you to go over the sums, make sure it all adds up.’

'Okay.’  You stood from the chair and made to leave, but the sound of him clearing his throat stopped you.

'Where the fuck d'you think you’re going, doll?’

'Back to my room to get started on this.’

'I think not.’  He pushed himself up from the desk, clearing a space and presenting it to you with a flourish.  'Your new workspace, m'lady.’

'Are you serious?’

'Deadly.’

You watched as he stalked round to the other side of the desk, dropping into his chair and waiting for you to sit back down, which you did, hesitantly.

'You expect me to work in here with you, like this, everyday?’

'Abso-fucking-lutely, sweetheart,’ he snarled at your reluctance.  'But if you’re real good, I might give you the fucking weekends off.’

'Don’t do me any favours, please,’ you snapped back, before turning your attention to the papers in front of you, trying to ignore the eyes that watched your every move.  As you scanned over the numbers, a realisation hit you, and you took a deep breath before lifting your gaze to meet his cold stare.

'You’re making me do this to figure out if anyone else has been stealing supplies.’

'You got a fucking problem with that?’

'Well, that depends.  If I find out they have, what are you gonna do?’

His silence was the only answer you needed.

You pushed your chair away from the desk and stood up, turning towards the door.  'I’m out.’

'You take one more fucking step, doll, and it’ll be your ass getting punished!’

You span on your heel to face him as he towered over his desk, his face growing red with rage.  'Really, Negan?  You’re threatening me now?’

'If that’s what I need to do, then fuck yeah, I’m threatening you!’

'Who are you?’  Your voice was shot through with disgust and betrayal as you looked at him, this man that had once made you feel so safe.  'How the hell did you become this monster?’

'In case you hadn’t noticed, the world fucking ended, doll!  It changes people!’

'It doesn’t change them all into psychopaths!’

'Is that what you think I am?’

'I haven’t seen much evidence to the contrary.’

'Every. Single. Person. Alive in this goddamn place is alive because of me!’  He was pounding the table with his fist now to emphasise his words, each loud bang making your body jolt in fear.  'What part of that do you not fucking understand?  If I let one person get away with stealing our supplies, everyone will get in on the act, and then, guess what?  No more fucking supplies!’

'But you didn’t have to-’

'Didn’t have to what?  Burn him?  Punish him in public?  Oh yes, Y/N, I did.  The thing about locking someone away in a cell is that, after the first few days, everyone forgets about them, forgets what they did, forgets about the consequences of breaking my fucking rules!  No one will ever, ever, forget what I did to that fucking shithead, and, if it does start to fade from their memories, his fucking scarred-up face will serve as a reminder that this is my house, and everyone needs to do as I fucking say!’

The silence after his deafening roar was overwhelming and more than anything you wanted to walk away, but you’d already gone back on your intentions of remaining calm and professional, so at this point, you thought, you might as well get it all out.

'You’re disgusting,’ you sneered.  'You have no idea what you sound like, do you?  D'you know what?  I reckon I could understand your point if I felt like you were really carrying out these sick little punishments for the greater good.  I get it, y'know, the need to set an example.  It’s how society used to function, right?  I hate it, but I get it.’

'So, what the fuck is it then, doll?  Cos you’re looking at me like you hate me right now and I can’t fucking stand it.’  After his tirade, it was as if all of the fight had gone out of him.  He was bent over his desk, his face drawn as he breathed heavily, his skin pale as the blood drained from his cheeks, his rage receding.  You didn’t think you’d ever seen him look as tired as he did in that moment.

'It was the look on your face as you did it, Negan.’

'What are you talking about?’

'You enjoyed it!  You held that iron against that poor man’s skin and you took pleasure in it.’

'It’s an act, sweetheart.  It’s all just an act.’

'No, see, you’re forgetting that I know you, or at least I used to, and I know you are not that good an actor.  You might be able to fool Simon or your wives or your army of Saviors.  Hell, you might even be able to fool yourself, but you don’t fool me, not for one second.’

'I swear, Y/N, you’re fucking wrong.  It’s all just part of the show.’

'Oh my God, you actually do believe that, don’t you?’  You were speechless, amazed that he’d managed to convince himself that he really was above his actions, that he wasn’t getting a perverse thrill out of inflicting pain on his people.  But you knew him better, and you’d seen that look on his face before.  'How the hell do you sleep at night?’

'I don’t,’ he confessed, his frown tortured as he met your eyes.  'Y/N-’

'No.’  You were backing away from him now, inching towards the door.  'From now on we are not friends, Negan.  We have no history.  You are a stranger to me.  I won’t be your fucking secretary, and I sure as hell won’t follow your damn rules.  You can do what you want to me - punish me, kick me out… I’m done.’

Feeling the cool surface of the door behind your back, you reached for the handle, slipping out of the room before he could stop you.

 

* * *

 

You were laying face down on your bed, sobbing quietly into your pillow, when a knock at the door of your room startled you, bringing you instantly to your feet as you eyed the entrance with trepidation.  As it began to inch open, you found yourself backing away until Simon appeared, stepping into the room with his hands raised in front of him.

'Woah there, you’re okay.  I’m not gonna hurt ya.’

'I thought you were him.’

'Nope.  But, damnit girl, you’ve got him real riled up.’

'Don’t.’

'I mean it.  He’s seriously pissed at you.’

You sighed, sinking down on the bed, and flopping backwards, covering your face with your hands.  'What did he say?’

'Not much.  Cursed a lot, like, even more than normal, and you, my dear, are on strict room arrest.’

'Room arrest?’

'I’m afraid so.  You are hereby confined to this room at all times.  You will have a guard outside your door 24/7, and meals will be delivered to you by the kitchen staff.  Understood?’

You nodded, fighting back more tears as they welled up in your eyes.  

Simon took pity on you, perching on the bed beside you and placing a comforting hand on your knee.  'Can I ask, what the hell’s the deal with you two?  I mean, I’ve been with Negan for years now, and I’ve never seen him like this before.’

'I know him,’ you confessed.  'From before.  We were in college together.’

Simon’s mouth dropped open as he struggled to process the information.  'College?  How’d that work?  You’re younger than him, right?’

'Yeah,’ you nodded.  'He was a mature student.  He was studying for a career change, and we ended up living in the same house for a while.’

'Shit.  I can’t even imagine what Negan was like before all this.  He seems like the kinda guy who was made for this shit show, y'know?’

'Yeah, well, he’s changed.  A lot.’

'You two used to be close?’

'The closest.  For a while I thought we might…  Well, life never works out how you expect it to, does it?’

'It certainly doesn’t.’  He sighed.  'Well, at least it all makes sense now.  The special treatment, and the mood swings he’s been having lately.’

'Sorry if you’re bearing the brunt of it, Simon.  And sorry if I’ve put you in a difficult position at all.  You shouldn’t have been put in the middle of this.’

'Like I’ve said before, I just do as I’m told.’

'Hmm, but you also said you don’t ask questions,’ you teased, trying to lighten the mood.

'Yeah, yeah, alright.’  He grinned at you.  'Look, don’t worry about this room arrest thing, okay?  I’ll try and make it as painless as possible.  I’ll sneak you some books or something.  Maybe see if I can find us a board game.’

'Thank you, Simon.’

'Don’t thank me yet.  Last chessboard I found only had half the pieces.’

'Not what I meant.’

'I know.’  He winked at you, levering himself up off the bed and heading for the door.  'Splash some cold water on your face, honey, and get some rest, okay?  It’s been a long day.’

'Yes, it has.’


	12. Chapter 12

_Before…_

You sat on your bed, curled up into a ball with your hands pressed against your ears, trying to block out the sounds coming from across the hall.  It was the early hours of the morning, and Negan had brought a girl home with him from the bar, and was now eliciting all kinds of excruciatingly blissful noises from her, whilst you tried desperately to pretend it wasn’t happening.  He’d come in to visit you on shift as he’d done a million times before, but on this occasion he’d instantly zeroed in on the table of giggling girls by the jukebox, approaching them with his usual laidback swagger, and introducing himself with the easy confidence of somebody who knew they were desirable as hell.  You’d become a distracted mess as you watched him move closer to a leggy brunette with dark, sultry eyes and pouty lips, dropping a tray of empty glasses and mucking up order after order.  You were pretty sure that Gemma was grateful when your shift ended and you left her to get on with the rest of the night in peace.

Deciding that getting any more sleep was not an option, you slipped out of bed, slipping a plaid shirt on over the top of your t-shirt and pyjama shorts, and padded downstairs to make a cup of tea.  You added an indulgent amount of sugar, before carrying it through into the living room where you dropped onto the sofa and tucked your feet up under you, flicking on the TV.  There wasn’t much choice at this hour, and you’d left your book upstairs, but you finally settled on an old horror movie that you’d seen before, the black and white gore flashing across the screen a welcome distraction for your fraught brain.

You knew that it was petty for you to be so mad at Negan.  You’d never discussed your relationship, and certainly had never made any sort of vow of exclusivity.  In fact, you hadn’t actually spoken about the night before your presentation at all, how he’d kissed you until your lips tingled and your body trembled beneath him.  There had been more kisses since then, gentle pecks goodnight when he slipped out of your room and dizzyingly devastating lip-locks in a darkened corner of the bar when he stayed behind after hours to help you clean up, but you’d never brought up the conversation that might establish what those meant and where they might lead.  Probably a stupid subject to avoid when you were kissing a man like Negan, who was known for treating girls like disposable coffee cups, drinking his fill then tossing them aside, but you guessed you’d always just assumed that you meant more to him, especially as you were such good friends.  Obviously you’d overestimated that bond.

When sunlight began to filter in through the window and you heard the clomp of footsteps on the stairs, you sat up straighter, trying to look as though you were more focused on the film than you actually were.  The brunette from last night came into view, turning before she reached the door and reaching out to embrace Negan who appeared close behind her, pulling him down to meet his lips, her hands sliding down his bare chest.

‘Call me,’ she husked, as he reached around her for the handle.

‘Oh, you can fucking count on it.’

As she slipped out into the morning, he shut the door behind her and turned back to the stairs, noticing you sitting on the couch, your eyes once again glued to the TV screen.

‘Hey, doll, what are you doing up at this hour?’  He shuffled across the room and flopped down beside you.  

‘Couldn’t sleep.’

'Oh, sorry, we didn’t wake you, did we?  She was a fucking screamer!  I was not expecting that.’

'It’s fine.’  You shrugged, trying to look nonchalant when really you just wanted to scream at him.

'Have I done something wrong, doll?  You’re acting kinda strange.’

'No.’  You swallowed hard.  'What would you have done wrong?’

He sighed, reaching out to wrap an arm around your shoulder and pull you against him, though you resisted, remaining upright.  

'Seriously, Y/N, what the fuck’s going on?’

When you remained silent he let out a harsh laugh, leaning his head back and shaking it.  'Is this cos I brought a girl home?  It’s not the fucking first time, sweetheart.’

'Maybe not.’  You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, keeping your eyes locked on the movie credits rolling on the TV as you admitted, 'But it’s the first time since we started doing… whatever the hell it is that we’re doing.’

'Well, you hit the nail on the fucking head there!  Whatever the hell it is we’re doing!  It’s been a couple of kisses, sweetheart.  Shit, we haven’t even slept together yet, and I sure as hell don’t remember us making this exclusive.’  He’d become immediately defensive so you knew he was feeling guilty, but you knew you should have brought the subject up before now.

'I know, you’re right.  I just… Those kisses meant a lot to me, Negan, and I guess I hoped that they meant something to you too.  If I’m wrong, that’s fine, but we should just be friends if we’re just gonna be friends.’

'I thought we were friends.’

'Friends who don’t make out, Negan!’

'Where’s the fun in that?’  He smirked at you but, seeing your hurt expression, reached for you again, this time succeeding at pulling you into his arms.  'Look, I’m sorry, doll.  I didn’t mean to upset you.  We hadn’t talked about it at all and, honestly, I didn’t really think you were that in to it.’

'Not in to it?  Really?’  You would have thought that the way you fell to pieces every time he pressed his lips to yours would’ve clued him in to just how in to it, in to him, you really were.

'Shit, I’ve had girls screaming the fucking house down and having the time of their fucking lives, and they’ve still walked out the door the next morning and never looked back.  Just cos you seem in to it when we kiss, it doesn’t mean you want it to go somewhere, y'know.  I just didn’t think-’

'Okay, I get it.’

'Look, Lucille was just a bit of fun, alright?  I promise you, it isn’t gonna fucking go anywhere.  It’s you I like, okay, doll?’

'How can you say that?  I don’t understand how you can say you like me then sleep with someone else when I’m less than ten yards away!’

'Hey, come on, sweetheart.  If I’d known you were on offer I’d have taken you over her any day.’

You shifted away from him again. 'If you’d known I was on offer?  Shit, Negan, what the hell does that mean?  You’re only interested in me if you have easy access to whatever you want from me?  Is that it?

'That’s not what I fucking meant and you know it.  What I meant was-’

'What you meant was that you apparently like me, and I know you like kissing me, but because I didn’t offer it up to you on a plate, it was just easier to go elsewhere to get your kicks rather than coming to me and having an adult conversation, right?’

'Well, for someone who’s acting like the jealous fucking girlfriend right now, it’s not like you’ve exactly been putting your feelings out there either, is it?’

'My feelings?  Why the hell would I admit my feelings to the King Fuck of the college?  How many notches is that you’ve got on your bedpost now, Mr Big-Shot?  From what I’ve seen it’s gotta be time for a new damn bed!’

'You really think that’s all you’d be to me?  You really think I’d play around on you?’

'Negan,’ you sighed, close to tears now.  'You just did.’

You saw his expression drop, as he inched nearer to you, reaching out a hand to take yours.

'So, can I assume from this reaction that you like me too?’  His tone was less aggressive now, though his eyes were still fierce and he was breathing heavily.

'I did.’

'Did?  You’re seriously gonna deny how you feel cos I had the fucking audacity to have sex with another girl as a fucking single man?’

When you didn’t answer, he moved his hand to the back of your neck and tried to pull you in for a kiss.

'No.’  You pushed him away, unable to hide the distaste on your face.  'I can’t, Negan.  You’ve literally just kissed your trashy one-night stand goodbye.  It’s tacky!’

'Ouch.’

'It is!’

'Even if I swear I’ll never fucking see her again?’

'I just can’t.  I’m sorry.  I need some time to get the soundtrack out of my head too.’

'Fine.  Suit your fucking self then.’  His face had closed off, his lips pulled tightly together as he glared at you, pushing himself up off the couch and heading towards the stairs.

'Wait, you’re actually pissed at me cos I won’t kiss you after watching you kiss your easy lay right in front of me?’

'I’m pissed cos you’re giving me mixed fucking signals!  One minute you’re getting mad at me cos I fucked someone else which apparently broke some unspoken rule between us, and the next you won’t fucking kiss me and you look at me like shit.  When you decide what the fuck you want, you let me know.’

'Well, for a start, I don’t want to kiss you when you taste like another girl!  I don’t think that’s unreasonable, Negan!’

'It fucking is, you wanna know why?’  He stepped towards you, his eyes sharp, his gaze piercing, lowering his voice as he rasped, 'She was fucking delicious.’

He waited until he saw the first tear fall, a perverse smile of pleasure spreading across his face at the acknowledgement that his words had hit their target, then he span on his heel and left the room.

 

* * *

 

_Now…_

The worst thing about being confined to your room was that it gave you too much time to think.  Having Negan come crashing back into your life in such a dramatic fashion had stirred up all kinds of memories that you’d spent most of the last decade trying to repress, and now you had nothing but long, empty hours to replay them all in your mind.

Simon provided a welcome distraction, having changed his attitude to you completely now that he knew about your history with Negan, though you still hadn’t shared any details with him, preferring to keep those to yourself.  He’d managed to rustle up an old Scrabble board that was only missing a quarter of the tiles, and you’d while away the evenings playing together, making small talk about the Sanctuary and life before.  You knew he was mad at Negan for the way he was treating you, that he felt you were being isolated because of your shared past, but you also knew that he wouldn’t do anything about it and, having seen Negan’s lust for doling out punishments, you couldn’t blame him.  You were glad for his company though, and knew he could get in trouble for the little comforts that he snuck in for you - books and magazines, and the occasional bowl of pudding from the canteen.  You were endlessly grateful that he took the risk.  The only time you found any real peace these days was when you were lost in a fictional world.

About two weeks into your arrest, you’d just started setting up the board, ready for his nightly visit, but when his knock came, he didn’t let himself as he usually did.  Confused, you abandoned the tile racks and strode over to the door, pulling it open to seeing Simon before you with a serious expression on his face.  He glanced awkwardly to the left, before clearing his throat to speak.

'Erm, you’ve got a visitor.’  He turned to the side again, growling, 'If Negan ever finds out about this, it’ll be my ass on the line.’

You recognised the voice that replied instantly.  'I’ll just tell him I snuck down here by myself.  It’ll be fine.’

And then Mandy stepped into view, clad in a short black dress that hugged her curves, her cleavage spilling over the top, her fuck-me stilettos clacking against the concrete floor.  'Hi, Y/N.  Long time, no see.’

* * *


	13. Chapter 13

Mandy remained in the doorway, big brown doe eyes fixed on you, until you stepped aside to allow her to totter into the room, mouthing a silent, ‘What the hell?’ to Simon who just shrugged and spread his hands, before you closed the door and turned to her.  She’d positioned herself in front of your mirror, arranging her curls on her shoulders and wiping away an imaginary smudge of lipstick from the corner of her mouth.  When she saw you watching, she did a twirl and let out a girly giggle.

‘So, what do you think?  Not too shabby, right?’

'Erm, I guess not.’

'I’ll tell you, you could do a lot worse than getting hitched to the boss-man.  I haven’t been this comfortable since before the world ended.’

You couldn’t help but laugh at that.  'Looks like a game of make-believe to me.  Put on your pretty dress, have sex with your fake husband, pretend that hordes of the undead aren’t roaming the earth…  Taking a little break from reality there, Mandy?’

You knew you were being catty, but the sight of her all tarted up for Negan turned your stomach.  In this world, looks didn’t or shouldn’t matter.  What mattered was adaptability, strength, and resourcefulness, but Negan was still determined to dress his women up like Barbie dolls.  He’d told you once that it was only when you stripped away all of the skimpy clothes and make-up that you found the real person underneath.  If that was the case, he obviously didn’t care to get to know his wives very well.  

'Jealous much, Y/N?’  Mandy snarked back at you, strutting across to the bed and taking a seat, lounging back against your pillow and crossing one leg over the other.  'You know there are rumours going round about you.’

You rolled your eyes at that but couldn’t help but ask, 'What kind of rumours?’

'About you and Negan.  People are saying you’ve got history.’

'Simon!’ you growled, startled when a loud bang sounded against the door and his voice shouted, 'It wasn’t me, I swear!’

'Come on, Y/N.  People round here aren’t stupid.  Did you think they wouldn’t pick up on your special treatment?’  Mandy narrowed her eyes at you.

'Special treatment?  I’m confined to my room, Mandy!’

'Yeah, for walking out on your job assignment.  Anyone else would’ve been locked in a cell at best, scarred for life at worst.  But not you.  You get to stay here in relative comfort with the great mustachioed muscle out there catering to your every need.  I mean, what’s that all about?’

'Did you just come here to grill me for information?  Cos if you did, you should just leave now.  If you want to know about my history with Negan, maybe you should ask him.’

Mandy’s eyes flashed with frustration and then she was up off the bed and in your face, her speed impressive for someone in such towering heels.  'I want to know what the hell’s going on with you and my husband!’

You snorted.  'Your husband, Mandy?  Your husband is fucking five other women!’

'Six!’  Simon’s voice came from behind the door again and Mandy glared in its direction.

'Oh, six?  So, there’s been a new addition to the harem, has there?’  When she didn’t respond you continued.  'I haven’t so much as laid eyes on Negan in weeks.  Trust me, there is nothing going on between me and your husband, but if there was, you would be the last person who could complain.  You made yourself his whore when you put on that little dress.  When you’re sharing with six other women, you lose the right to act like the jealous wife!’

You gasped as Mandy hit out at you, her nails catching the side of your face as you dodged out of reach.  Wet trickles of blood tickled your cheek as they seeped from the broken skin.  

Mandy took a deep breath, stretching out her hand as if to wipe the coppery trails away.  'I’m sorry, Y/N.  Look, we have an understanding.  The wives, I mean.  An understanding that you’re not part of.’

'Oh, yeah, that makes it better.’

'It does.  It’s not like any of us are actually in love with the guy.  Some of us just enjoy his attentions a little more than others.  We make it work.  You, Y/N…  You’re throwing a spanner in the works.  You’re making him unpredictable, and when he’s unpredictable, it’s harder for us to control him.’

'Oh, okay, so this isn’t the jealous wife routine?  This is a power trip!  You think you’ve been controlling him, sweetheart?’

'We can. We do.’

'No.’  You shook your head wildly.  'No, if you think you’re controlling Negan, it’s because he’s letting you believe that, and that’s a dangerous game to play, Mandy.’

'For someone claiming not to be close to him, you sure do seem to know him pretty well.’

You exhaled loudly, trying to calm the anger coursing through your veins, as you stalked towards the door, wrenching it open and motioning for Mandy to leave.  'Get out.’

'We’re not done here.’

'Yes, we definitely are.’  As she moved past you, you caught hold of her wrist, bringing her round to face you.  'Don’t come here again, Mandy.  If you do, I’ll get the message to Negan and let him deal with you.  Maybe then you’ll see exactly how little control you really do have.’

As she stormed off down the corridor, Simon caught your eye with a smirk painted on his face.  'The great mustachioed muscle, huh?  I kinda like it.’

'Stop.’

'No, seriously, I might get it on a t-shirt!’  He’d followed you back into your room, fetching a damp towel from the bathroom, and sitting you down on the edge of the bed so that he could clean up the scratch marks marring your face.  'You look like you got into a fight with a tiger or something.  Gives you a look of danger.  No one’s gonna be messing with you now, girl.’

'Are you trying to make me feel better?’

'Depends.  Is it working?’

'Maybe.’  You couldn’t help but smile as he tossed the towel aside and dropped down beside you.  'Thanks, Simon.

'Anytime,’ he drawled as he leant back on his elbows.  'I know things have been pretty rough for you.  If it makes you feel any better, I think Negan’s an ass for the way he’s treated you.’

You nodded, feeling uncomfortable at the mention of the head Savior’s name.  Although you and Simon chatted everyday, you had steered clear of the big boss, sticking to safer subjects like the weird and wonderful objects brought back from supply runs, and Logan’s progress in his new role at one of the Sanctuary outposts.  'It’s okay.  Really, I’m alright.’

'You shouldn’t have to put up with this crap, though.’

'Simon, how is it that you can stand there and watch him hold an iron to someone’s face and not even blink, but a few weeks of room arrest for me and you’re getting riled up?’

'Because when he’s punishing people, I can understand the need for it,’ he admitted.  'I might think his methods are a little extreme, but at least the motivation I get.  He’s trying to protect the community, to keep it functioning.’

You scoffed a little at that, but he ignored you and continued.  'What he’s doing to you…  You’ve done nothing to deserve this.  This is purely personal and it just… It doesn’t sit right with me.’

'Negan’s always been pretty good at making things personal,’ you sighed.  'That’s one way that he’s actually still exactly the same.’

'I guess that you guys didn’t end things on the best terms.’

'I don’t think it would have been possible to end them any worse.’

'So, this is revenge?’

'I don’t know.’  You leant forward, resting your elbows on your knees.  'I really don’t know.’

Taking a deep breath, he heaved himself back to his feet, his hands resting on his hips as he thought for a moment before turning towards the door.  'Well, I’m gonna find out.  Enough is enough, Y/N.’

 

* * *

 

When a loud knock stirred you from your sleep later that night, you rolled over in irritation as the door creaked open, expecting to see Simon enter the room.  At the sight of Negan’s steely gaze coming to rest on you where you lay curled up under your blanket, you sat up, holding the covers to your chest like a protective shield.  

'Negan?  What are you doing here?’

'Well, apparently I’m being an ass, or so I’ve been informed by my right-hand man out there.’  He nodded towards the door.  'Boy, you’ve got him wrapped around your little fucking finger, don’t you, doll?’

'I haven’t…  I didn’t…’ you stammered, unable to think coherently as he loomed over you in the darkness, stepping closer to the bed.  He reached over to trail his fingers down the red lines that marked your face, grimacing at how vividly they stood out against your pale skin.  'Negan, don’t-’

'We need to talk, don’t we, sweetheart?’

'Is there anything to talk about?’

'Well, I’ve certainly got some things I need to fucking say.’

'So, say them, Negan, cos I just really want to go back to sleep.’

He shook his head, his expression hard to read as he began to move away from you, obviously intending to slip back out into the corridor and leave you to your rest.  'Not tonight.  Tomorrow.  Meet me at the front gates at dawn.’

'What?  Why?’

'You’re coming on a run with me.  I need to get out of this fucking place for a while and I want you to come.’

'Okay.’

'Dawn then?’

'I’ll be there.’

As the door closed behind him, plunging you into darkness, you rolled back over and squeezed your eyes shut, waiting for sleep to wash over you again, but seconds later you were sitting up and running your fingers through your hair, your stomach already churning at the thought of what tomorrow might bring.  Did this mean your punishment was over?  Were you even ready to talk to Negan again?  You threw yourself back against your pillow and let your racing mind run away with you, knowing there was absolutely no way that you were going to get any more sleep that night.


	14. Chapter 14

_Before…_

When Jason Blackman had asked you out after class, you’d initially opened your mouth to stammer out an awkward rejection but, given that you’d barely spoken to Negan since your argument over Lucille a couple of weeks ago, you found yourself agreeing and arranging to go out for drinks at the weekend.  Which was how you now found yourself slumped on the sofa, dolled up in a new dress which you’d spent some of your hard-earned savings on, a short black skater style with long sleeves, and your knee-high lace-up boots, checking the clock for the millionth time and letting out a loud sigh.  It was definitely looking like you’d been stood up, and you weren’t sure which was stronger:  your anger or your humiliation.  You didn’t even really like Jason, but a plan was a plan, and it wound you up that he’d be rude enough to just not show up as arranged.

‘Woah.’  You glanced up to see Negan in the doorway with his fingers wrapped around a steaming mug of coffee.  'Doll, you look beautiful.’

‘Whatever,’ you bit out, rolling your eyes, your embarrassment heightened by the fact that Negan was there to witness your humiliation.  

‘You going out?’

'Apparently not.’  You saw his bemused expression and sighed, knowing he wasn’t going to leave unless you explained yourself.  'I had a date, but it looks like he changed his mind, I guess.  I don’t know why I’m surprised.  I seem to have that effect on guys.’

You were avoiding Negan’s gaze as you spoke, so you jumped a little when he sat down beside you.  'Shit, I’m sorry, sweetheart.  Guys are jerks.’

'Not gonna argue with you there.’

'Look, how about I take you out tonight, huh?  We could go-’

'Uh uh, no, that’s not going to happen.’  You’d scrambled to your feet, tugging your dress down as you did so, and turning back to look at him.  'I don’t need a pity date, Negan, especially not from you.’

'What’s that supposed to mean?’

'It means we’ve barely spoken in weeks and it sucks!’  You knew your voice was getting louder and fought to keep it controlled.  'So, why the hell would you want to take me out now?’

He had the grace to look a little shame-faced, lowering his head to take a sip of his drink, before glancing back up to meet your eyes.  'How about to say I’m fucking sorry, doll?  Cos I am, y'know.’

When you didn’t speak, he levered himself to his feet and stepped closer to you, raising his free hand to brush his fingertips against the pale skin of your cheek.  'I hate things being this shit between us, but I didn’t know what to say to you or if you’d even listen to me.  I feel fucking terrible about how we left things.  You were right.  It was shitty of me to bring Lucille back here, and I should’ve talked to you about what was going on with us.  So, I’m sorry, Y/N, okay?’

'Okay.’

'And you’re sorry too, I presume, for acting like a jealous fucking princess when you also hadn’t actually tried to have a fucking conversation about it all with me before then?’

'Maybe,’ you shrugged, before meeting his gaze and letting slip a small smile.  You’d hated how bad things had been between you and, though it made you feel like a pushover, you already knew you were going to forgive him, just for the sake of getting your friend back.  'Okay, yes, I’m sorry.  I might have overreacted a bit, but…  I like you, Negan, and all of those kisses…  They just made me like you more.  So, yeah, maybe I did act a little crazy, but if you’re going to take me out tonight, you need to know how I actually feel about you.’

'Well, I like you too, doll.’

'I mean it.  I don’t want to be messed around again.’

'I wouldn’t fucking dare, I promise.’

'Okay.’  You ran your eyes over his casual outfit, his baggy jogging bottoms and creased polo shirt.  'Well, if you’re going out with me, either you need to go change or I do, cos I’m starting to feel really overdressed here.’

'Give me two minutes, sweetheart.’  He leant down and placed a chaste kiss on your lips, before grinning at you and heading for the stairs.  'Don’t go anywhere!’

When he reappeared, he’d changed into dark jeans, and a black slim-fit shirt which accentuated the defined muscles in his arms.  Your eyes travelled down his body hungrily as he slipped his leather jacket over his shoulders and reached his hand out to you, lacing his fingers through yours as he guided you out of the front door and into the cool evening air.  You pulled away to rifle through your handbag for the cardigan that you’d stuffed in there earlier, slipping your arms through it to ward off the breeze, as you strolled along the road towards the center of town.  

'So, where do you wanna go then, doll?  Did you have something specific in mind for tonight?’

'Well, we were just gonna go for drinks, I think,’ you admitted.  'But I’m actually really hungry.’

'Wanna go to Pietro’s?’  Pietro’s was one of the fancier restaurants in town and, though you’d always wanted to go there as you’d heard the food was amazing, you’d never been able to afford it.  'My treat, to apologise for being jackass,’ Negan continued, seeing the hesitation in your eyes, his face lighting up when you nodded in agreement.

* * *

 

The restaurant was warm and dimly lit, small tables of people laughing over steaming bowls of pasta dotted around the room.  Your eyes flickered over the little details that gave it its homely, Mediterranean feel - the potted trees that stood in the corners, the terracotta jars lining the shelves that adorned the cream-painted walls.  Negan conversed quietly with the waiter for a minute as you turned to study the artwork on the wall beside you, then you heard a frustrated huff and felt Negan’s hand in yours again.  

'Sorry, Y/N.  Looks like they’re all booked up.  Let’s go and find somewhere else, okay?’

'Sure.’

You left the quiet serenity of the restaurant behind, wandering the streets of somewhere they’d be able to squeeze you in, but it was a weekend evening and every place you tried was rammed full.  

'Fuck,’ Negan cursed under his breath as he stopped in the middle of the street, running his hand through his hair.  'This is a fucking disaster.’

'Negan…’

'No, doll, I wanted to give you a nice evening and it’s all gone to shit.  I’m sorry.’

'Hey!’  You turned towards him, placing your hands on his shoulders and frowning.  'It was short notice, and it’s the weekend.  It’s not really surprising that everywhere’s busy, and it’s not your fault.’

The glowing neon light of a late-night takeaway joint sign being switched on caught your attention, and you released your grip on Negan, and grinned in the direction of shop.  'Looks like dinner’s served.’

He groaned reluctantly as you grabbed his hand and towed him over in the direction of the food which you could now smell cooking, your stomach rumbling with hunger.  'Sweetheart, I really wanted to do something nicer than this for you.’

'This is fine, Negan.  Besides, you’re still treating, right?’

Ten minutes later, you were sitting side by side on the kerb, chowing down on big greasy burgers and nibbling on crispy fries.  You sighed contentedly and unzipped your boots, slipping them off to release the pressure on the balls of your feet, burning now from your trek around town.  

'So, this might be the best date ever,’ you announced, sucking tomato sauce from your finger.

'Shit, if that’s true, sweetheart, you’re definitely the cheapest date ever.’

'Hey, don’t knock it.’  You nudged him, causing him to drop his chip back into the styrofoam container, and letting out a giggle.  'And I mean it.  This is pretty much perfect.’

'You’re fucking serious?’  Negan still couldn’t quite believe that you were that easily pleased, but you nodded at him enthusiastically.

'Literally the only thing that would make this better would be if I was in my jeans instead of this freakin’ uncomfortable dress.’

'You look hot as shit though.’

'Uck, I hate being all dolled up like this.  I feel like a Barbie!  Any date where jeans would be acceptable attire is a winner as far as I’m concerned.’

Negan scoffed at you, his eyes lingering on your bare legs as you tugged at your hem again, shifting on the sidewalk to try and protect more of your skin from the rough tarmac.  'Well, I’ll remember that.  Why’d ya get all dressed up if you hate it so much, anyway?’

'I don’t know.’  You considered the question for a moment.  'I guess, it would’ve been the first date I’ve been on in a while and I felt like I should.  I see the type of girls guys go for, the girls you go for, and they all put the effort in to look pretty and glamorous, y'know.  So, I thought I’d try it.’

'Shit, doll, you look pretty whatever you’re wearing.  That dress is doing all sorts of things to me right now, but I think the sexiest you have ever been was when you were standing in your room in your ripped-up jeans and that big-ass Frankie Says Relax t-shirt.’

You met his gaze, smiling shyly at him, your cheeks flushing red at the compliment.  'Well, that’s a little embarrassing.’

'I fucking mean it!  The thing with all those girls that get dolled up every night is that, when you peel away all the skimpy clothes and wash off the make-up, you’re left with a different fucking person.  You’re real.  I like that.’

'Okay, stop now.’

'Why?  Am I making you uncomfortable?’

'Maybe.’  You squirmed a little before, setting your empty food container to one side and climbing to your feet.  'Not as uncomfortable as those boots are gonna be when I put them back on though.’

You eyed the towering heels, pouting at the torture you were going to have to suffer through to get home, when Negan chuckled and pushed himself up from the ground, moving to stand in front of you and leaning forward slightly, his knees bent.  'Jump the fuck on, princess.’

'What?’

'Grab your boots and jump on.  I’ll piggyback you home.’

'Are you serious?’

'I am right now, but it’s a limited time offer so hurry the fuck up, doll.’

You grinned, bending down to scoop up your boots and passing them to Negan to hold whilst you rested your hands on his shoulders and jumped.  One of his hands caught the back of your thigh, supporting your weight as you wrapped your legs tight around him, his other hand doing the same after he’d passed back your shoes.  As he stood upright, you fidgeted to get comfortable, his fingers biting in to your bare skin, before squeezing his stomach with your knees.  'C'mon then, let’s go!’

* * *

 

Back at home later that night, you were curled up in Negan’s bed, an old black and white movie on his TV as you both nibbled on a squares of chocolate from a bar that you’d found in the kitchen and decided to stake a claim on, intending to deny all knowledge should the owner ask around.  

Your eyelids were growing heavy, your brain too tired to focus on the action on-screen, and as your eyes drifted closed, you felt Negan’s lips brush against yours, soft and tentative, the scent of chocolate and musk washing over you as he leant in close.

You hummed gently in contentment, your hand automatically slipping to the back of his neck, asking for more, when you caught yourself, holding him in place as you met his gaze.

'Negan, Lucille…’

'I haven’t seen her since that night, sweetheart.’

'Do you promise?’

'I promise.’

'What about-’

'There haven’t been any other girls in this bed since then.’  His eyes were sincere, staring deep into yours, the irises darkening as he dropped his gaze to your lips.  'I even changed the fucking sheets.’

You nodded slowly, before pulling his mouth back to yours, losing yourself in his luxuriously languid kisses, the creamy taste of chocolate and the bitterness of smoke from the cigarette he’d lit on the way home.  

'Fuck, I love kissing you,’ Negan groaned against your lips, rolling onto you and lacing his fingers into your hair.  'What the fuck have you done to me?’

You didn’t answer.  He’d already kissed away your breath, your voice, and, as you reached up to capture his mouth again, you felt yourself give away your heart.

 

* * *

 

_Now…_

As the sky outside your window began to lighten, you rolled out of bed, rubbing your eyes, still exhausted.  You’d managed perhaps two hours of broken sleep, tossing and turning, fear of spending the day with Negan and leaving the boundaries of the Sanctuary combining to turn you into a nervous wreck.  The last time you’d been outside these fences, you’d lost everyone you cared about, and now you were expected to go back out there with a man that had proven himself to be violent and unpredictable.

A knock on your door alerted you to a visitor, and it creaked open a crack to reveal Simon’s face.  

'Morning Y/N.  Just checking you were up.  You’ve gotta head out in twenty.’

'Oh, I’m up,’ you grumbled, running a hand through your messy bed-hair.

'You look like shit, sweetheart.’

'Oh, Simon, you’re so charming!’

'Didn’t sleep well, huh?’

'Well… At all… What’s the difference really?’

'You gonna be okay to go out there today?’

'Do I have a choice?’  His silence was confirmation that you didn’t and you groaned loudly as you shuffled towards your bathroom.  'I’m gonna take a shower.  If I’m not out in ten it means I’ve fallen asleep and you need to come wake me.  Keep your eyes closed though, ya hear me?’

'Yes, ma'am!’

You didn’t fall asleep, instead showering and dressing in record time, unable to care too much about your messy hair as you dragged it into a crooked ponytail, or the rip that you managed to tear in your jeans as you yanked them on, the fabric giving way halfway up your thigh, thin from too much wear.  

You weren’t allowed a weapon in the Sanctuary, so you didn’t take anything with you but a couple of bottles of water and a box of cereal bars hastily slung in a backpack as you trudged out of the door and let Simon guide you down the stairs and out into the fresh morning air.  It was the first time you’d left your room in what felt like forever and you tilted your face towards the sun, greedily soaking up the rays.  It was already warm on your skin, a sure sign that the day was going to be scorching hot.

Negan’s lean figure was waiting for you, leaning casually against a beat-up old truck that was parked up in front of the gates, his hair tousled already as he ran his fingers through it as you approached, the action belying his otherwise outwardly calm appearance.  He barely looked at you as you stopped in front of him, your eyes flicking to Simon uncertainly.

'You ready?’ Negan’s voice was even more gravelly than normal, and you guessed that he hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before either.

You nodded but remained silent.

'Get in.’ His eyes finally fell on you as you stepped past him to open the passenger door, hauling yourself up and into the seat, before slamming it shut behind you.

You watched through the window as he exchanged hushed words with Simon, who nodded at you reassuringly as Negan rounded the vehicle and slid into the truck beside you.  He took a deep breath as the engine roared into life, his minions rushing to open the gate and allow you through.

'Here we fucking go then, doll.  Just you and me.’


	15. Chapter 15

The silence in the cab of the truck was oppressive, as you weaved through the back roads that surrounded the Sanctuary, the border of trees growing denser until you were driving along little more than a track through the forest.  

‘Are you bringing me out here to kill me?’ you half-joked, trying in vain to lighten the atmosphere, but Negan barely acknowledged that you’d spoken, his ice-cold gaze fixed straight ahead, though you saw the muscle in his cheek twitch and his mouth tightened into a thin line.  'Well, that’s reassuring.’

The hours wore on as you rolled through abandoned towns and villages, leaving behind any signs of past communities and moving into the open countryside, fields of long feathery grasses and wildflowers stretching out into the distance, nature taking over again now that humanity wasn’t around to keep it under control.  The sun was high in the sky above you, beating down on the metal roof and turning the truck into a sauna, the sweat trickling down your neck and soaking into the collar of the plaid shirt that you’d pulled on over your tank top.  You dug around in your bag for a bottle of water, twisting the cap off and taking a long swig before offering it to Negan, who just shook his head as he swung the vehicle into a gravel yard that had been concealed behind a row of trees, pulling up in front of one of three large brick buildings.  

‘We’re here.’  They were the first words that Negan had spoken to you since you’d left the fences of home, and you almost jumped at the rasp of his voice, it was so unexpected.  

'Where is here, exactly?’ you asked, leaning forward in your seat to check for any signs of danger.  

'We’re not sure.  We think one of the local farmers used it as storage, but we’ve never been able to get close enough to check it out before now.’  At your look of confusion, he continued.  'The place was surrounded by fucking walkers until maybe a couple of days ago.  We’re not sure what drew them away, or where they are now, but if no one’s been able to get in here, it could be a fucking goldmine for us.’

'Great,’ you sighed.  'So, there could be a herd round the next corner and you decided that two of us would be enough for this job?’

'Shit, doll, you scared?’  His tone was mocking, but the creases at the corners of his eyes let you know that it was intended to be light-hearted.  'I thought you were tougher than that.’

'Tough, maybe,’ you frowned at him, not in the mood for jokes.  'But I’m not stupid, and this is a bad idea, Negan.’

'Alright, alright.  We’re just here to have a quick scout around, okay?  In and out, quick as you like.  If we find anything, I can have more men here ASAP, and they can do the fucking dirty work.’

'Okay,’ you agreed reluctantly.  'But I want a weapon.’

'You what?’

'I’m not armed, okay?  And I’m not stepping foot out there until I have something to protect myself with.’

'Sweetheart, I can-’

'No, Negan.  I’m not asking for a gun, a knife will do just fine, but I don’t feel safe with nothing!’

He exhaled deeply, slipping the knife at his hip from its holster and passing it over to you, holding on just a little too long when you reached out to take it from him.

'You said you trusted me,’ you reminded him.  'Back when we had dinner in your room, you said you needed a friend you could trust.’

'Yeah, well, shit’s changed since then, hasn’t it?’ he growled, but relinquished his hold on the blade, reaching round to retrieve his baseball bat from behind your seat.  'The way you look at me these days, I wouldn’t put it past you to stab me when my fucking back’s turned.’

'This is the first time I’ve seen you in weeks,’ you argued.  'I haven’t been looking at you at all!’

You watched as his jaw opened and closed, his tongue running over his bottom lip, as if he was about to say something further, but he closed his eyes for a moment instead, keeping his temper in check.  'I thought you wanted to get this over with quick, doll?’

You nodded, adjusting your grip on your knife, and resting your hand on the latch for the door, waiting for Negan to push his open and step out into the yard.  As you followed, you felt your old instincts, diminished by so long confined to your room, flooding back, every sense on overdrive, alert for any threat.  Your boots crunched over the gravel as you shadowed Negan across to the closest building, turning to cover him as he rapped on the door, waiting for any signs of movement inside before kicking it in, letting it fly back against the wall with a loud bang.  You glared at him as you moved past him, scanning the space and peeling off to the left to check the adjoining room, as he took the right side, his bat raised and ready to strike.

Together, you cleared the building methodically, though it was completely empty much to Negan’s evident disappointment.  The second was just as bare, and by the time you’d reached the top floor of the third and tallest building and found nothing, his frustration had boiled over, and he swung his bat against an empty bottle that had been sitting on the floor in one corner, smashing it against the wall in a shower of glass.

'Fuck!’  He began to pace around the room, swinging the wooden shaft between his fingers as he rubbed his hand across his beard, shaking his head in confusion.  'I don’t fucking understand!  This place should of been loaded with supplies!  Even if another group had raided it, there’s not a community around here big enough to clear the whole damn place!’

'Negan-’

'No, this is fucking impossible!’

'Negan, please stop yelling.’

'These were my fucking supplies!’

His voice was getting louder with every word, his face growing red as he raged.  A strangled moan from the doorway dragged your attention away from him, and you turned to see a mangled corpse dragging itself towards you, its jaw hanging slack as its fingers clawed against the ground.

'Well, look what we have here!’  Negan’s face twisted in sadistic glee as he watched the legless creature moving closer, its hands bleeding and broken as it continued in its mission.  'Guess we missed you when we cleared the place out, didn’t we, beautiful?’  He danced closer to it, almost letting it reach him, before skipping away, throwing his head back as he guffawed.

'Negan, just kill it, please.  This is sick.’  You hated the pleasure he was taking in taunting the walker, the disgust leaving a metallic taste in your mouth.  

'I gotta say, gorgeous,’ he mocked, ignoring your plea.  'I admire your fucking dedication here.’

'Negan.’

'I mean, I bet you were a real goer back in your day, huh?  I bet there was no stopping you!’

'Negan!’  You moved to step in front of him, to drive your knife through the dead one’s skull, but he shoved you roughly away.

As he leant forward to inspect the woman more closely, you saw the glint of metal of the handgun tucked into his waistband and grabbed at it, flicking off the safety and firing a bullet into the corpse’s skull before he could react.  The shot echoed around the empty building, deafening you for a moment, as Negan turned to you, his eyes flashing with anger.

'Give me the gun.  Now!’  His voice was low and dangerous, his gaze pinning you to the spot as his grip on his bat tightened.  When you didn’t immediately hand it over, he wrenched it roughly from your fingers, flipping the safety back  on and tucking it back into his belt.  'What the fuck do you think you’re doing?’

'You were being an ass, Negan.’

'What?  Having a little fun with a corpse that would gladly rip us both to fucking shreds if it had the opportunity?  Shit, doll, I didn’t know you were so protective over the undead fuckers!’

'I’m not, but they were people once!  That could be someone’s mother, or sister, or wife!  I know we have to kill them, but we don’t have to enjoy it!’

'Ahh, you just want to spoil all of my fucking fun, don’t you?’

'God, when did you become such a monumental dick?’ you screeched, fisting your hair in frustration.  'What the hell is wrong with you?  I can’t even…  I can’t even comprehend what happened to you to make you like this!  Is there any humanity left in there?’  You pounded your fist against his chest, gasping as he wrapped his fingers around your wrist, his grip painfully tight.  

'Do not ever fucking touch me without my permission.’

'Get off of me, Negan.’  When he didn’t release you, you yanked your arm away, rubbing at the red marks that his fingertips had left on your skin.  'I said, let me go!’

You turned towards the window, trying to regain your composure as the blood pounded in your ears, fear and anger combining into something potent and horrific.  The sight that met your eyes was even more horrifying.  A herd of walkers was flooding into the yard, attracted by your raised voices and the gunshot.  The building you were in was already surrounded, and, as you watched, the build-up of weight forced open the door, letting them spill into the ground floor.

'Shit!’ you murmured, backing away into the centre of the room, unable to watch as the numbers below swelled.  'Negan, quick!  The door!’  An empty shelving unit stood in the centre of the room, and you ran towards it, leaning against it as you tried to shove it across the doorway.  

'Negan!’  

He was peering out of the window, cursing under his breath, before he joined you, his strength moving the shelves easily.  You stepped around him, slamming the door shut, so that he could block it off, listening to the stumbling footsteps and groans from below as the crowd made its way slowly up the stairs.

'Shit, we’re trapped.’  The reality of your situation hit you like a tonne of bricks, and your body began to shake violently, as you sunk to the floor, your eyes wide with terror.  You felt warm arms wrap around you, pulling you against a solid chest, cradling you gently, as a deep voice husked reassurances in your ear.

'It’ll be okay, doll, I promise.  I’ll get you out of here.’

'How?’

The silence that met your answer brought tears to your eyes.  

'I don’t know,’ he admitted eventually.  'I don’t have a fucking clue, but I promise you I will.’

 

* * *

 

The evening was drawing in, the room falling into shadow as the sun sunk lower in the sky.  You’d been sitting in panicked silence for the past few hours, as Negan paced around the room, checking the windows to find that they’d rusted shut, listening at the door for any signs that it might be about to give way, giving semi-regular status updates as the groans of the walkers inside attracted more from the surrounding area.  At this point, they had pretty much all managed to cram themselves inside the building, leaving the yard below pretty much empty, but the additional pressure against the wooden door was causing it to creak alarmingly, and the shelving unit was starting to shift slowly backwards.

'Negan,’ you whimpered, clinging to him as he moved in front of you, putting himself between you and the increasing threat.  He looked wildly round, his eyes coming back to rest on the window, as the door gave another loud crack, and inched open, the shelves screeching against the floor as they failed to hold back the herd.  

'Y/N, do you trust me?’

'What?’

'Do you trust me?’

'Yes,’ you answered instinctively, without any thought, surprising yourself with your own answer, but knowing it was the right one when Negan turned to face you, wrapping his arms around you, and holding your gaze, as he nodded slowly.  

'Alright.’  A body managed to squeeze itself through the door, quickly followed by another and another, the shelving unit toppling to the floor.  'Here we go!’

Before you knew what was happening, he was dragging you across the room, picking up speed before he threw himself against the window, smashing through the glass and sending you both flying out into open air, plummeting four floors to the ground.  You could see the panic in his eyes, could feel him trying to twist you round as you fell so that you’d land on top of him, intending for his body to shield you, but you were higher than he’d initially judged, and you both hit the ground hard, taking the brunt of the impact on your sides.  A piercing pain ripped through you, and you let out a strangled scream, but Negan was already on his feet, reaching down to you and hauling you up, pulling you behind him as he limped towards the truck.  Walkers were tumbling out of the broken window above you, landing with sickening squelches and thuds around you.  Negan left you at the passenger door, rounding the truck to the driver’s side and sliding in, already starting the engine in the time it took for you to get your door open and hoist yourself up and into the seat.  He put the vehicle in reverse, peeling out of the yard, and speeding off down the road, the fields whizzing past you in a blur as he raced away from the herd.

It was all you could do to stay conscious as every bump under the tires sent shockwaves of agony through you, and you forced yourself to twist round to inspect your side, groaning in pain as the movement wrenched your injury.  A large shard of glass was protruding from your body, just below your ribcage, your shirt soaked with warm, sticky blood.

'Fuck,’ you gasped, your hands hovering uselessly over the jagged spear, as nausea washed over you.  

'You alright, doll?’  Negan finally let up on the accelerator and glanced over at you, the colour draining from his face as he took in your distressed state, the sheen of sweat that glazed the sickly white of your skin, your unfocused eyes as you blinked dazedly, and the blood that continued to seep into the fabric of your clothing.  'Shit, Y/N, stay with me, sweetheart.’

'It hurts, Negan.’

'I know,’ he murmured, his eyes flicking between you and the road.  'I know it does, but just stay with me.  I’ll get you back to the Sanctuary and Carson will take a look at you and get you all fixed up, okay?’

He stretched out his arm, finding your hand and linking his fingers through yours.  'C'mon, doll.  I can’t lose you now.  Fucking stay with me!’

But his voice was receding, the world around you fading to black, as you slipped slowly into unconsciousness.


	16. Chapter 16

_Before…_

With exams looming and a mountain of assignments piling up, the couple of weeks following your date with Negan were spent either at work, in the library studying, or in your room, your pen flying across page after page as you scrawled down notes and tried to keep your handwriting readable for any essays that need to be submitted.  

You’d barely seen Negan.  He’d stopped coming to visit you on shift, and he barely seemed to be at home, so you guessed that his course was keeping him pretty busy too.  Sometimes you’d wake in the middle of the night to feel the weight of his body shifting against your mattress as he crawled into your bed, curling himself against you and wrapping his arms tightly around your waist, holding you close and peppering your back and shoulders with light, fleeting kisses, but he was always gone by the time you woke up, only the indent in the sheets proving to you that you hadn’t just dreamt his presence.  It was frustrating, but at least those nights reassured you that he still wanted you.  You figured you could talk out the details when the semester was over.

You were sitting in the middle of your bed one evening, surrounded by mounds of paper and textbooks, when Polly knocked on your door, clutching a bottle of whiskey in her hand.  

‘Hey Poll, what’s up?’  You smiled at her, motioning for her to come in which she did, perching on the end of the bed, careful not to disturb any of your notes.  

‘Sorry to interrupt the revision, I just wanted to double check something with you. I bought this for Negan.’  She held up the bottle, the amber liquid sloshing up the sides.  'He helped me out the other day when my car wouldn’t start so I just wanted to thank him.  This is the brand he drinks, right?  I know he’s a little fussy.’

'That’s the one,’ you nodded.  'So, you actually saw Negan, huh?  I was starting to think he’d fallen off the face of the earth!’

'I know, right?’  She giggled.  'It was just good timing really.  I was out super early cos I’d pulled an all-nighter to get an assignment done.  I just wanted to get it handed in so I could get some sleep, y'know, so I caught him just as he was leaving the house.’

'How was he?’ you asked, trying to sound nonchalant.  'I mean, did he seem okay to you?’

'He looked kinda tired to be honest,’ she admitted.  'I guess that new girlfriend of his is keeping him pretty busy!’

'What?’  Her words reverberated in your ears, and you felt your heartbeat quicken.  'His what?’

'Oh, didn’t Max tell you?’  Max was another one of your housemates, a media major that you didn’t feel you had much in common with, though you got on okay.  'I guess he figured you’d already know, being close and everything.  He saw Negan with some girl in the canteen, and when he went up to say hi, she introduced herself as his girlfriend!’

At your stunned silence, she continued.  'I know, he kept that quiet, right?  Anyway, her name’s Lucy or Lucinda or something-’

'Lucille,’ you interjected, as a feeling of betrayal washed over you, causing your heart to physically ache.  

'That’s the one!  So, you know her?  Anyway, we thought about maybe having a house dinner or something once we’re all done with exams so she can get to know us all.  I figure maybe she’s super shy and that’s why Negan doesn’t bring her round here.  What do you think?’

'Erm… Yeah… Maybe,’ you stammered.  'I might be working.’

'Well, we’ll arrange it around your rota, silly!’

You couldn’t look at her anymore, couldn’t speak.  This new information was whirling around in your brain and each time you tried to comprehend it, your subconscious gave your heart another warning jab.   _Don’t think about it.  Don’t go there._

'I’m sorry, I need to… go.’  You couldn’t sit there for a moment longer, scrambling off the bed and sending a couple of books tumbling to the floor.  You pulled on your sneakers and shrugged a hoody over your shoulders.  'I’ll see you later, Poll.’

'It’s raining,’ she called after you, but you were already halfway down the stairs, not caring about the weather, just needing to get out and walk.

The icy droplets of water had already drenched you before you reached the end of the street, but you kept going, numb to the elements as your brain chanted one word over and over.

_Lucille.  Lucille.  Lucille.  Lucille._

How could Negan do this to you?  Okay, you still hadn’t had the relationship talk, but he’d promised you that he wouldn’t see her again, had sworn that it was you he liked.  If he had a girlfriend, what was he doing crawling into bed with you at night?  Though you guessed it now made sense that he wasn’t sticking around to face you in the mornings.  You thought that what hurt the worst was that he hadn’t bothered to tell you himself.  He must’ve known it was only a matter of time before you heard through the grapevine, especially once Max had found out.  

It was becoming increasingly obvious to you that Negan just didn’t care.  

You walked for miles through the night, your clothing sodden and weighing heavy on your shoulders, your hair hanging in rats tails around your face.  Your sneakers squelched with every step that you took and your entire body was trembling with cold, but you kept going.  

In the early hours, you dropped down on a bench at the side of the road and let yourself cry until your eyes were sore and your breath was coming out in loud, hiccuping gasps.

You didn’t notice the car pulling up beside you until the door swung open and the internal light flickered on, illuminating the concern etched on Negan’s face.  'Get in.’

'No.’

'I said get in the fucking car, Y/N.’

'No!“ you screeched.  'I’m not going anywhere with you!’

He sighed loudly, before the driver’s door swung open as well, and he climbed out, rounding the car and scooping you up in his arms as if you weighed nothing, depositing you gently in the passenger seat and slamming the door closed.

As he slid in next to you, you shot him a venomous glare and he dropped his gaze to his lap, fiddling uncomfortably with the hem of his jumper.  'Look, I’m sorry, doll, but-’

'You’re a fucking asshole,’ you spat at him, watching as he flinched at the hatred behind your words.

'I know.’

'I hate you.’

'Well, I fucking love you.’

His words silenced you for a moment, the only sound in the car the hammering of the rain against the roof.

'You what?’ you finally managed to choke out, turning to look at him as he leant his head back against his seat and closed his eyes.  'You don’t get to say that to me right now, Negan!’

'We need to talk, okay?’

'Just take me home.’

 

* * *

_Now…_

A searing pain in your side brought you hurtling back into consciousness, your body writhing in pain against the hands that fought to hold you still against the cool surface beneath you.  Rubber-clad fingers probed at your side, each touch causing your nerve endings to scream, and then pressure was applied to your wound, and you let out an animalistic shriek.  

'Y/N,’ a deep voice rasped in your ear.  'Doll, it’s okay.  Carson’s fixing you up right now, alright?  You’re gonna be okay but you got to hold real fucking still for me, sweetheart, d'ya hear me?’

'Negan, I can’t work on her while she’s squirming around like this.’  Another male voice, cool and professional, though tinged with just a hint of fear.  'I need to stop the bleeding or-’

'Or what, doc?’  Negan’s tone was menacing, and you felt his grip on you tighten, his nails digging in to the tops of your arms.  'There is no fucking 'or’!  She lives or you die!  Get to fucking work!’

'I’m trying, but you need to keep her still.’

A heavy pressure landed on your torso, warm breath ghosting across your face, as Negan pressed himself on top of you, trying to hold you steady whilst not hurting your side any more than the doctor already was.  

You cracked open your eyes just long enough to see the fear in his wide-eyed stare, before the glint of a needle distracted you, and then you were slipping back into darkness.


	17. Chapter 17

Your body was on fire, heat coursing through your veins and turning every cell into ash and smoke.  The smoke smothered you, making it hard to breathe, stealing your voice away so that you were unable to scream, to cry out for help.  The intensity of the pain made your body tremble, each jerk and jolt of your muscles only increasing the agony.  

You heard people moving around you, familiar voices seeping in to your nightmare, giving you hope and at the same time filling you with frustration that they weren’t doing anything to wake you up.

‘What the fuck’s happening, doc?  You said she was going to be okay!’

‘I said she should be okay, but the wound’s infected.  I never could have expected that!’

‘She better not fucking die, Carson.’

…

‘What the hell happened?’

‘There was a herd.  We were fucking trapped!  Shit, I did what I could.  We both would of died there otherwise.’

‘I told you the run was a stupid idea, Negan.  I told you, and you went ahead and did it anyway!’

‘Are you forgetting who the fucking boss is around here, Simon?’

‘No, but-’

‘Then I would be very careful about how you’re fucking talking to me right now.’

…

‘Negan, baby, you’ve been in here for ages.  You need to get some rest.’

‘I’m not fucking leaving her.’

‘But you look exhausted, honey.  Please, come on, I can help you relax.  Maybe work out some of those aches and pains…’

‘I said no, Mandy!  Get the fuck out of here!’

 

* * *

 

The next time you opened your eyes, the Sanctuary’s makeshift ward was dark, only the flicker of a candle from somewhere next to the bed illuminating the figure hunched over in a chair beside you, his elbows resting on his knees and his hands clasped together as though he was praying.  

‘Negan,’ you croaked, your throat dry, your neck stiff as you tried to turn towards him.

He raised his head to look at you, and you noticed in shock that his eyes were red-rimmed, his face drawn and gaunt-looking, his hollowed cheekbones thrown into stark relief by the flame.  'Y/N?’

‘You look like shit.’

He let out a disbelieving laugh as he levered himself out of the chair, moving to stand over you and brushing the hair back from your face.  'Fuck, you’re awake.’

You nodded.  'How long was I out for?’

'A few days.’

'What?’  You clearly remembered the events of your run with Negan up until crawling back into the truck after your fall, but everything after that was a blur.  You couldn’t quite believe how much time  had passed.

'Doc said an infection had set in.  You were… Fuck, you were burning up like you’d been bit and I… I haven’t left your fucking side.  I honestly thought…’

'It’s okay,’ you husked, reaching over to grasp his hand and squeezing it gently.  'I’m okay.’

'Carson’s been pumping you full of meds.  Said he thought you were through the worst of it, but I still wasn’t sure…  Shit!’  He barked the last word, turning away from you and pacing to the other side of the room with his head in his hands.  'I can’t believe I let this fucking happen!’

'Negan-’

'No,’ he interrupted, swinging back round to face you but maintaining his distance.  'You didn’t want to go in there.  You said we didn’t have enough people and I made you go in anyway just to prove that I was in control, and now look at you.’

He raised his hands towards you, his gaze skimming over your pale, waxen skin.  'This is my fault.’

'No, it’s not.  It’s no one’s fault.  These things happen.’

'But-’

'Negan, it’s the damn apocalypse.  If the worst that happens to me is a nasty cut I think I got off easy.’

'But I-’

'And, since you didn’t ask, I would actually love some water right now, if you’re done with the self-pity.’

He opened his mouth to speak again but no sound came out, though the tip of his tongue traced over his bottom lip as he nodded slowly, moving over to the other side of the room and fetching a bottle, which he held tentatively to your lips, tipping it up so that you could take a sip.  The cool liquid soothed your parched throat, and you nodded your head to indicate that you wanted more.

When you’d drunk your fill, you smiled up at him, thanking him quietly.  'I’m sorry I snapped at you.  I just don’t want you blaming yourself for this, okay?  You’ve done a hell of a lot to hurt me since I got here, but this… This wasn’t you.’

'What if I said I was sorry for everything?’

'I guess I’d have no choice but to accept it.  I’m not really up for getting into an argument right now.’

'And what if I meant everything before as well?  Back in college, I mean.’

'I’d probably say that’s it’s too little, too late, Negan.’

He cast his eyes downward, sinking back into the chair, stretching his long legs out and wincing slightly at the action.  You guessed he hadn’t come out of the fall completely unscathed either.  'Is there anything I can do to make it up to you, doll?’

You considered this for a moment, poking gently at the sensitive areas of your heart, the memories you’d tried to repress over the years, to see if there was any sign of healing.  You’d been such a mess back then, and you weren’t sure if there was any way that he could take it all back now.

'I’ll tell you what,’ you decided finally.  'Tell me about your life.  Tell me about whatever it is that’s happened to you that’s turned you into this… This man that I don’t know anymore.  Make me understand and maybe I’ll consider it a start.’

'Oh, sweetheart,’ he groaned, rubbing his hand over his beard and shifting uncomfortably against the hard seat.  'That’s a long fucking story.’

You cast your eyes over your delicate body where you lay, raising your hand to gesture to your forlorn state.  'I’ve not got anything better to be doing right now.’

He nodded in acknowledgement, but you could still feel his hesitancy, sensing it in the tense way that he held himself, the unfocused flicker of his eyes over the room, his gaze landing on everything but you.  'There are things I’m not sure I can talk about.’

'Try.’

'I can’t…’

'Fine.’

'No,’ he sighed.  'I can’t do it here, that’s all.  When you get out of here, I’ll tell you everything. I fucking swear it, doll, I’ll fill you in on everything that’s happened in my life, anything you wanna know.  I promise.’

'I’m not sure your promises count for much.’

'This one does.’

You turned away from him, a single tear trickling down your cheek as you found yourself overwhelmed by pain, exhaustion and the intensity of his stare.  'I think I need to get some sleep.’

'Alright, doll.  I’ll be here.’

'No.’  At his hurt look, you tried to soften the blow a little.  'You need to sleep too, Negan, and eat.  You look terrible.’

'But-’

'Just send Simon in.  I’ll be fine.’

The sound of a cough came from outside the door and Negan shook his head in amusement, rubbing a hand through his salt and pepper whiskers again.  'Simon’s been sitting outside your door since I brought you in.  Told you you had him wrapped around your little finger.’

'So, I’ll be okay, then.  Please, just go.’

He nodded, finally levering himself to his feet as if to leave, but instead closing the distance between you, slipping a hand behind the back of your neck when he reached the bed, and leaning down to press a soft kiss against your lips, his beard scratching against your skin as his mouth moved gently on yours.  You were too shocked to move, let alone react, part of you infuriated that he’d make a move on you when you were too weak to push him away, though the taste of him was intoxicatingly familiar.  And then he was pulling back, refusing to meet your gaze, and slipping quietly out of the door as a shorter, sturdier figure stepped into the room.

'How are you doing, honey?’

The kindness of Simon’s tone and the warmth in his eyes was the last straw, and you felt your resolve crumble.  In the weeks that you’d been on room arrest, Simon had become your best and only friend and the comfort of his presence after everything was overwhelming.  'Simon, it hurts!’

He crossed the room in two paces and wrapped his arms around you as best he could, trying not to jolt your body or disturb your injury.  'I know, sweetheart,’ he crooned, before pausing.  'Wait, are we talking about the stab wound or Negan?’

'Both.  All of it.  Everything,’ you whimpered, and he reached up to stroke your hair as you sobbed.  

'It’ll be okay, Y/N.  Everything will be okay.’  He tilted your chin up so you’d look at him and gave you a cheesy grin.  'Your mustachioed muscle is here!’

You couldn’t help but giggle at that, returning his smile through your tears.  'Thank you, Simon.’

'Get some rest, alright?’  He released you from his embrace and stepped backwards to drop into the chair that Negan had previously occupied.  'I’ll be right here.’


	18. Chapter 18

_Before…_

You threw open the front door of the house and stormed up the stairs, Negan’s footsteps not far behind your own, following you as you stalked into your room and tried to slam the door in his face.  He held a hand out to stop you, easily rebuffing your attempt at shutting him out, his eyes pleading with you.

‘Y/N, please, would you just fucking listen to me for a minute.’

‘Why?’  You tried to keep your voice down, not wanting the whole house to be privy to your argument, turning your back on him, unable to look at his face.  'So you can lie to me some more?  Why the hell would I do that?’

‘Because I’m not gonna lie to you, okay?  I’ve never lied to you, doll.’

'Are you serious?’  Your tone was incredulous as you spun towards him, trying to work out whether he was actually joking.  ’'It’s you I like, Y/N, not Lucille…  I promise I won’t ever see her again…  I love you!’  What was that if it wasn’t just one lie after another?’

'Every word was true, I swear to you.’

'Really?  Because everyone round here seems to be pretty clear on the fact that you and Lucille are together now.  That’s gonna be a tricky relationship if you’re determined not to see her, don’t you think?’

'You don’t understand!  When I said that to you, I meant it.  I didn’t go and seek her out, Y/N, she came to me!’  He exhaled heavily, casting his eyes up to the ceiling as if searching for the right words.  'If you just sit down and listen to me, I’ll explain everything.  Please, just hear me out.’

Knowing that he wouldn’t leave until you conceded, you sank down onto the edge of the bed, rolling your eyes and gesturing for him to continue, trying to ignore the fact that your body was now shaking with cold in your sodden hoody and jeans.

'Go on then.  Explain.’

'Thank you, I…  Sweetheart, shit, you’re shivering.  You should get changed, get out of those wet clothes.’

'I’ll change when we’re done here.’

'You’ll catch your fucking death, doll.’

'So, talk fast.’

He stepped towards you, reaching for your hands and tugging you up off the bed, his long fingers moving to the zip of your hoody and tugging it to the bottom so that he could pull it down your arms.  Disappearing into your bathroom, he reappeared with your towel, trying to hand it to you, and growing exasperated when you ignored him.  He used a firm hand on your waist to turn you round so that he could twist your hair into the soft fabric, wringing out the excess rain water, before carefully drying off the lengths as best he could.

When you turned back to face him, you were smirking, cocking one eyebrow at him as you snarked, 'So, what?  You’re gonna undress me yourself now.’

The hungry look in his eyes at your words made your breath hitch in your throat, and you cast your gaze to the floor, trying to break the charged atmosphere that had suddenly settled over you.

His hands moved to the hem of your t-shirt, lingering there for a moment, before he began to slowly ease the fabric up and over your head.  Your intention had been to stop him, but the warmth of your room that rushed in to caress your skin as the freezing cold top was removed was too good to resist.  Meeting no objections, Negan discarded your shirt, his fingers reaching for the button of your jeans, unhooking it gently, and dropping to his knees to peel the soaked denim down your legs, a hopeful smile painting over his features when you lifted each foot in turn to step out of the trousers.  Standing before him, clad only in your underwear, your skin glistening with the damp that had soaked through your clothes, you suddenly felt very vulnerable, but the look on his face when he looked up at you was one of adoration.

'You’re fucking beautiful, you know that?’  He reached for the towel again, using it to rub away the last of the moisture clinging to your body, climbing to his feet as he worked his way up to your shoulders, wrapping the towel around you like a cape as your shivers began to steadily lessen.  'Shit, how could you ever think I’d care about anyone else even half as much as I care about you?’

'Negan…’

'I meant what I said.  If you don’t believe anything else, you have to believe that I love you, Y/N, too fucking much.’

He was standing over you now, his breath ghosting across your face as he leaned towards you, his grip on the towel holding you in place, though you doubted that you’d have been able to move if you tried.  You were pinned to the spot by the intensity of his stare, the pure desire and need in his eyes.  You knew your own must be mirroring his, and for a beautiful moment you forgot about all of the reasons why this was a bad idea, and just enjoyed the heat emanating from his body, the quirk of a smile on his lips as he felt you shuffle closer, and the soft rasp of his voice as he whispered, 'Please, Y/N.  I’m so sorry.’

His lips collided with yours as you whimpered into his mouth, the towel dropping to the floor as he moved you backwards towards the bed, crawling up the mattress after you as your knees buckled against the edge.  Your body was running on pure instinct and sensation as his weight came down on top of you, pinning you against your covers, his hands lacing into your hair as he kissed you.  These kisses were different to any of the ones you’d shared before, greedier and more desperate, as if he were a starving man and you were the nourishment he truly needed.  

As you broke away to draw breath, his hands began to explore you, fingers dancing over your skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.  You quickly became a writhing mess beneath his touch, his hot breath making you tremble in anticipation as his mouth mapped your body.  The night of your first kiss, Negan had bragged that he knew a million different ways to kiss you, and now he seemed to know a million other ways to make your head spin: the low growls that rumbled from the back of his throat as he watched you fall to pieces beneath him; the soft brush of fingertips against your waist, contrasting with the sharp scrape of teeth on the sensitive skin above your collarbone; the scratch of his stubble against your face, your neck, your stomach, and the tickle of his chest hair as he hovered above you.  

Any sense of control had gone out of the window.  You could tell that Negan was right there with you by the harshness of his touch, the bruising pressure of his hands on you, and by the fierce, biting kisses that were sure to leave marks.  Your nails were digging in to his biceps, leaving tiny scarlet crescents over his muscles, scratching down his spine as you tried to pull him closer.

As he finally crashed into you, your whole world exploded, and you knew that this was what you’d been made for, that this was exactly where you were meant to be.  His chocolate irises locked on yours as you moved together and, when you were both swept away on a wave of ecstasy, your cry of his name mingled with his muffled curses as he buried his face in your neck and held you close until the aftershocks of pleasure slowly ebbed away.  

He rolled off of you, reaching out an arm so that you could curl into his side, resting your head on his sweat-glazed chest, pressing scattered kisses over his skin, unable to stop the smile that had spread over your face.

'You alright there, doll?’  You looked up to see Negan smirking at the happiness in your expression, and shifted so that you could capture his mouth.  

'I’m…  Wow.  I mean, that was…  Wow, right?’

He hummed in contentment, resting his forehead against yours and mirroring your smile.  'Sweetheart, that was fucking incredible.’

'This isn’t how I imagined tonight would turn out,’ you admitted reluctantly as the reality of your situation come flooding back, physically flinching at the tension that sprung up between you at your words.  'I’m sorry, I don’t want to bring it up, but…  I mean, what happens now, Negan?’

You could feel his muscles stiffening beneath you, as the hand that rested on your shoulder tightened its grip, fingers digging in to your skin.  'I don’t know, Y/N.’

'But you love me, right?’

'More than fucking anything in this whole world.’

'Well, I love you too.’

His fingers slipped under your chin, tilting your head up so he could kiss you again, sinking into you with a deep groan.  'Shit, what are you doing to me?’

'Negan, I’m serious.  Are you gonna talk to Lucille?  I mean, this meant something, didn’t it?’

'It meant everything.  You have no fucking idea what it meant.’

'So…’  You continued to push for an answer, though you could already tell that his next words were going to hurt you.  You could see it from the way he was now refusing to meet your eyes, from the way he was holding you too tightly.

'So, I need to fucking think, doll.  Things are way more complicated than you know.’

'Complicated how?  If you love me, what’s the problem?  Surely nothing’s more important than that.’

'You’d fucking think.’  He released you from his increasingly painful embrace, running his hands through his hair and staring up at the ceiling as though it would provide him with all of the answers he needed.  'I swear, Y/N, if it were just up to me, I’d fucking marry you tomorrow!  I need you.’

Your heart felt a surge of hope, but you batted it down, trying hard to keep your emotions in check, noting how clipped his words were, how he still refused to look at you.  'Negan, please, just tell me what’s going on.  I can’t…  I can’t keep doing this with you.  We’ve never talked about us, not properly, and all we do is end up going round in circles.  So, let’s talk about it now, please.  What is it you’re not telling me?  What do you need to think about?’

You had a few more seconds of blissful ignorance, before he turned your world upside down once again, his voice so low that you could barely make out his words, though they still had the power to cut you like a knife.

'Lucille’s pregnant.’

 

* * *

 

_Now…_

You remained in the ward for the next week as you built up your strength, under the watchful eye of Doctor Carson and with Simon to keep you entertained.  Each day you’d ease yourself out of the bed, and Simon would slip his arm around your back and help you stagger around the room until you tired yourself out.  When you managed to circle the room three times with no assistance, it was decided that you could finally be discharged, and Simon escorted you back to your quarters, his patience unrivalled even when you had to take the stairs one step at a time, pausing for a rest between each flight.  You were still in pain, and found that it didn’t take much to completely drain you of energy, but you were refusing to take any more meds, knowing that the supplies were limited and that others may need them at some point in the future.  

You knew that Negan had been checking in on you each day, heard his gravelly tones from the next room as he discussed your progress with the doctor, but he never stopped in to see you, and you guessed he was putting off the difficult conversation that you’d challenged him to have, or else waiting until you’d forgotten your anger over his kiss.  You were hoping that he would come to you once you were back in your room, but it didn’t happen, and you thought maybe he’d decided it would be easier to just leave the past in the past and cut ties with you once and for all.

Negan’s refusal to deal with you meant that neither you nor Simon were sure if your room arrest still applied, but you weren’t strong enough to make it down to the canteen every day anyway, so you still had your meals brought up to you, and spent most of your days lounging around on your bed, reading books or flipping through magazines.  Simon was still joining you most evenings to play board games and update you on the Sanctuary gossip, and that was enough to stop you from going completely stir crazy.

It took ten days until he came to you bearing not just another almost-complete game to play, but also word from your leader.  

'He wants to see you tomorrow night.  Said I should bring you by around seven.’

You took a deep breath, nodding slowly.  'Did he say what he wants?’

'Nope.’  Simon shook his head.  'But it sounded like he just wants to talk.  He’s still feeling pretty guilty about what happened out there, so I don’t think he’ll give you too hard a time of it.’

'It wasn’t his fault, Simon.’

'It damn well was.’

'No-’

'Y/N, we look to him to lead this place, this community.  That means he has to be making decisions with his head, and not just cos he has a point to prove.  He messed up and he needs to know that.’

'These things happen, Simon.  That’s just the world we live in these days.’

He sighed and rested a pitying hand on your shoulder.  'You are far too forgiving, sweetheart.’

'Don’t I know it.’


	19. Chapter 19

Anxiety sent a shiver down your spine as you stood outside Negan’s office the following evening, and waited for him to respond to your reluctant knock.  The sound of footsteps approaching caused your pulse to quicken, but when the door was wrenched open, the eyes that met yours were kind, moving over you in a concerned examination, taking in your freshly showered appearance, the flush of colour to your skin.

‘Well, you’re certainly looking better, doll.’

You nodded, feeling your cheeks heat up under his intense gaze.  'I’m feeling better.’

He stepped aside, letting you slip past him into the room, before shutting you both inside.

‘How are you doing?’ you asked, turning to face him.  'I asked Carson.  He said you were pretty banged up yourself.’

‘Ahh, just bruised.’  Negan brushed aside his injuries, though you’d been able to tell the last time you’d seen him that he’d been sore.  'I’m fine now.  I was worried as shit about you though.  You really had me fucking scared there for a minute.’

You offered him a tentative smile.  'I didn’t think the big bad Head Savior felt fear.’

‘Neither did the big bad Head Savior ‘til then,’ he confessed.  'The thought of losing you though…  Fuck, yeah, I was terrified.’

He took a step forward, his arm stretched out as if to touch you, but you moved out of reach, shaking your head.  'Negan, I came here to talk.  I can’t…  You promised me you’d tell me everything.’  

'And I will.’

He stepped towards you again, and this time you let him place a gentle hand against your back, guiding you through his office and into his living quarters, where he motioned for you to take a seat at one end of the couch, sinking down beside you and stretching his legs out, as you curled yourself up against the soft leather.

'Where do you want me to start, sweetheart?  This is a once in a lifetime fucking opportunity here.  Ask me anything!’  He was being over-dramatic, his voice loud and booming, his hand gestures sweeping and exaggerated, but you could tell he was nervous about this.  You wouldn’t let that put you off though, knowing that you needed to take advantage of this moment, of his willingness to tell you about his life, as you could tell it wasn’t something that came easily to him. You hesitated as you wondered whether to ease him in with something small, before deciding that it would just waste time and jumping in with the thing that had really been bothering you since you last sat here on this couch.

'When I last saw you, Lucille was pregnant,’ you began, seeing pain flicker across his face, his mouth tightening into a thin line, his forehead creasing as he frowned at you.  'But when I was last here, you said it had just been the two of you.  What happened, Negan?’

He cleared his throat, his voice a low rasp when he finally spoke, his gaze fixed on the opposite wall as he shifted uncomfortably.  'She lost it.’

You fought the gasp that rose up in your throat, holding in your questions to let him speak.  'She only had a few fucking weeks left, but she was so intent on doing everything her-fucking-self, even when she was the size of a house, and she had a fall getting something out of the closet.  She was balancing on a stool to reach the top shelf, and she slipped.  I was in the damn house, all she would have had to do was shout and I would have done it for her, but she was so fucking stubborn.  Anyway, she was in a lot of pain, and they rushed her in to surgery, but… There was nothing they could do.’

'I’m sorry.’  You tried to inject your words with the heartbreak that you felt for him in that moment, hoping that he could hear the compassion in your voice.  'God, I’m so sorry, Negan.’

'When they came out and told me, I couldn’t believe it, y'know.  How could this little thing, this little baby, already be gone?  I hadn’t even met him yet but, shit, I fucking missed him so much my heart ached.’

'It was a boy?’

'Yeah.  We had the nursery all done up and everything.  Lucille was ready to be a mom.  She was so scared at first, but once we got settled in our own place, she was ready.’  He bowed his head, scrubbing a hand roughly across his eyes to wipe away the tears that threatened to fall.  'I was a fucking mess.  I could barely get out of bed one day to the next.  I’d given up so much to build this little life with her, y'know, to build a family for our child to be born into, and then all of a sudden it was just all for nothing.’

You wanted more than anything to reach across the cushions and hold him, to rock him gently and tell him it would all be okay, but you could tell now that he needed to get this off his chest.

'I lost my job cos I just stopped fucking going.  We got kicked out of the apartment.  We ended up living with my Mom for a while cos we had nowhere else to go.  And through it all, Lucille had such… grace in how she handled it.  She just kept fucking going, like a fucking powerhouse.  Sometimes it was like I could physically feel her hating me, and I couldn’t blame her.  I was a pathetic dick.  All I did was drag her down.’

'But you stayed together?’

'Yeah, we did.  Amazing, really, given everything but…  I think it was her dignity through all of it that made me fall in love with her in the end.  I was just blown away by this woman that could go through everything that she had and still be so strong.  So, I got my act together for her.  I decided to be the man that she deserved.’

You nodded sadly in acknowledgement of the fact that Negan had been prepared to do the right thing by a woman that, in the early days, he had barely known, let alone been in love with.  A small piece of you, buried somewhere deep beneath the part that still felt a piercing stab of betrayal at the thought of their relationship, was happy that they’d been able to find a positive in their loss.

'I lost Mom that same year,’ he continued, and this time you did gasp.  You’d only met Negan’s mom once, but she’d been warm and loving, and had greeted you with a tight hug and an instruction that you needed to eat more.  When she’d left, you’d found a recipe for her cherry pie on the desk in your room, and you knew instinctively that she expected you and Negan to end up together in the long run.  'Heart attack.  Shit, it was so sudden I still can’t really believe she’s gone.  Turned out she’d been having some trouble for a while but she wasn’t taking her meds for whatever reason.  I leant on Lucille pretty hard after that, and I think that was when I started to realise how she’d stayed so strong.’

'What do you mean?’

'She’d just cut herself off, Y/N.  She wasn’t the bubbly, vibrant woman that I met at college.  She was… cold.  It was like she had a shield up all the time and I just couldn’t fight through it.  She never cried, she never raised her voice, she never got excited about anything.  It was like she was just… numb.’

'Did you ever try again?  For another baby I mean.’

'No.  She didn’t want to.  Said it wasn’t worth the risk.’

'God.  Negan, I don’t know what to say.’

'Neither did I.  I tried to talk to her so many times, but she just shut me down, told me she was fine.’

'But you didn’t leave her?’

'Honestly, I felt like it was my fault.  I felt like I owed her something, I guess.  Plus, fuck, I did love her.  I just wanted to make everything better for her.’

'And did you?’

'I thought so, for a little while.  We stayed in the house after we lost Mom, and we were both working again.  She loved her job, got her with her colleagues or whatever, and she started smiling a little more often.  I thought we were getting somewhere.  Then a job came up back this way, just down the road from the college, and I mentioned it to her.  She seemed to want to go, said she still had friends in the area, and she’d look for work down here, so we packed our shit up and moved.’

'You were teaching?’

'Yeah, loved it.  I was fucking good at it too.’

'And what did Lucille do?’

'She worked as an assistant in a solicitor’s office.  She was trying to get experience, work her way up.  But as soon as we got down here, it was like we backtracked in the biggest fucking way.  That shield came back up and I just couldn’t get through to her.  I kept asking if she wanted to move back up north, but she wouldn’t have it.  She was so intent on being okay, y'know.’

'What did you do?’

'Honestly, I was a fucking dick.  I distracted myself.’

'Distracted yourself how?’

'With as many other women as would fucking have me.’

'You’re a jerk, Negan.’

He had the decency to look ashamed of himself, hanging his head and sighing deeply.  'I fucking know that.  I just… I didn’t know how to handle it, Y/N.  I didn’t know what to do!  I couldn’t make her happy and it made me feel useless.  I just needed to feel like I was good at something again.’

'And, as an athlete, obviously it was hard of you to think of anything other than sex to do that,’ you snarked at him, and he flinched at the harshness of your words.

'Look, it was a fucking mistake, alright?  I know that.  I hate myself for it now.  God, she knew as well.  I knew she knew and I still didn’t fucking stop.  It just became a habit, I guess.  I’m not making excuses.  Shit, I know I’m going to hell.  She deserved so much better.’

'So, when did she get sick?’

'About six months before the world ended.  She found a lump, caught it early enough, or so we thought, but it was aggressive.  It spread pretty quick, even with the chemo.  That was when I stopped messing around on her.  I swear, doll, when she was sick I didn’t leave her side.  I did everything for her, from the day she was diagnosed, right through to the fucking end.’

'What a prince.’

'I’m sorry.’  His voice caught in his throat, and you glanced over at him to see that his eyes were red, tears spilling down his cheeks.  'I’m so fucking sorry.’

'God, I’m sorry, Negan.’  Seeing him in this state, his guard completely lowered, his vulnerability on show, you instantly regretted your attitude, reaching over to link your fingers through his and rub your thumb over the back of his hand.  'I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t judge.  I can’t even imagine what you’ve been through.’

'It just left me thinking, if I’d been in control back then, if I’d been better at taking charge, maybe Lucille wouldn’t have had that fall, maybe she’d have let me help her more, and maybe Mom would have taken her pills.  I could be a dad right now.  Mom could be a grandma.  If I’d just laid down some fucking rules, everything could be different!’

A wave of understanding washed over you:  Negan’s insistence on rules, the harsh punishments he doled out when they were broken, his complete refusal to be flexible in case he should look weak.  It all made sense now and, though you still couldn’t condone it, at least now you could appreciate the reasons behind it.

'When the dead started fucking walking, I wandered for a long time, drifted from place to place.  I was on my own for most of it.  Everytime I found a group, or a community, it was only a matter of time before they’d fuck up and get killed, and then I’d be on my own again.  It got to the point where I didn’t even bother learning people’s fucking names anymore, cos I knew it would just make it more difficult when they got themselves torn to pieces.’

'So, what changed?  How did you start this place?’

'Honestly, I just got fucking sick of death.  I wanted to build a home again.  I’d ended camping with a group a little way from here, and we found this place on a run.  I could see the fucking potential straight away, y'know.  This building is solid as shit, and I knew it wouldn’t take much to reinforce the fences, make it secure, but when I spoke to the leader he wouldn’t have a bar of it.  Told me it was too big a risk, that it was safer to stay where we were, ready to pick up and move if any walkers got too close.’

'What did you do?  You didn’t…’

'What?  Kill him?  No.  I decided to take charge and do my own thing.  Got the word out that I was leaving and would protect anyone that wanted to come with me, and the next morning I had a group of my own.  One of them was Simon,’ he added.  'He’s been with me from the very beginning of this place.’

'He’s a good man,’ you smiled, remembering how many times he’d been there to comfort you and reassure you.  'I think I’d have lost my mind without him.’

'Just be careful, Y/N,’ Negan warned, and you looked up at him in surprise.  'I’m not saying Simon’s not a good man, cos he is.  Of course he fucking is, he’s my second-in-command!  But he has some… control issues.’

'What do you mean?’

'He was managing a community for me, a couple of hours away from here.  A funny little group that lived near the water, pretty much survived solely on fish, but it was working for them.  Anyway, the relationship went south.  Simon demanded too much, too soon, and they rose up and tried to fight back.  Now, me, I’d have killed a couple of them - made a scene, put on a show, taught them a lesson - but Simon, he ordered his men to take out every man in the camp over the age of fifteen.  It was a slaughter.’

'Shit.  What happened?’

'Well, the survivors disappeared.  I have a pretty good idea where they are, but it’s not something I care to fucking pursue anymore.  We’ve taken enough from them.’

'And Simon?’

'Well, I had some fucking words with him, you can be sure as shit about that.  He was taught the error of his ways.  These days he’s a lot more mellow.  He tends to run things by me before he goes off gun-happy.’  Negan took in the look of horror on your face and gave your hand a squeeze.  'I’m not trying to scare you, doll, and I’m not saying you shouldn’t be close with the guy.  Shit, if anything, I’ve pretty much encouraged that!  I’m just telling you to be aware.  He has a dark side, but, hey, who the fuck doesn’t these days?!’

You nodded hesitantly, the pressure of Negan’s fingers against yours soothing.  'Okay.  Well, thanks, I guess.’

'So, does that answer all your questions, doll?  Is there anything else you’d like to know?’

You considered this for a moment, before responding.  'Okay, so I get now why you’re so insistent on rules, why you feel like you have to be in control all the time, why you won’t show any weakness, but what I still don’t get is why you seem to take so much pleasure in hurting people.  When you burned that man, Negan, you looked… excited.’

'Shit, doll, it’s cos they fucking deserve it, and cos I know it works,’ he scoffed, before his expression grew serious at the look of judgement in your eyes.  'Alright, alright, I’m sorry.  Look, a while back, when the Sanctuary was still in the early stages of development, we had guards patrolling the fences all night long.  They weren’t particularly strong still, and they were prone to breaches, but by keeping my men out there all night, we could deal with things as they happened, and no one was really at risk.  Then one night, one guy decided it was fucking acceptable to sneak inside whilst on duty to fuck his girlfriend.  So, when the undead broke through the fucking fence, not only was there no one there to sound the alarm, but the little shit had left one of the doors open in his excitement, so we ended up with walkers flooding in to the lower levels.’

'Oh my God.’

'It was a massacre.  Men, women, children… Good fucking people, my people, torn apart in their beds because one person couldn’t follow the fucking rules.  That’s when I introduced the punishments, and that’s why I look like I’m enjoying causing pain to these dickheads.  Because I’m picturing what could have happened because of them, what that other outcome could have looked like, so shit, yeah, I’m happy that I can use them as an example, and maybe stop more of my people from dying that way.’

'I had no idea.’

'Not a lot of people do.  Pretty much the only ones who survived that were my Saviors cos they sleep on the higher floors.  It’s not something I care to share in my fucking welcome speech, I’m sure you can understand that.’

'Of course.’

'So, do you still think I’m a monster?’

You sat forward, turning towards him so that you could cup his bearded face in your hand and rub your thumb over the ridge of his cheekbone.  'No.  I think you’re someone who’s been through more than most people could handle, especially before the world went to hell.  But I also think that at some point, you need to stop blaming yourself.’

He nodded, nuzzling his face into your touch and pressing a soft kiss against your palm.  'That’s a lot easier said than fucking done, doll.’

'Don’t you get tired, Negan?  Isn’t exhausting putting all of this pressure on yourself to lead?’

'More than you know.  But I’ve gotta do it, cos if I don’t, people die.  This world needs people, Y/N.  People need people.’

You nodded in understanding, feeling like you had a better read on him now than you had, maybe even better than before in your past life.

'I get it.’

'So, you don’t hate me?’

'I don’t hate you.’

He smiled at your words, using his grip on your hand to drag you gently closer to him, before twisting you round to pull you onto his lap.  'Thank fuck for that, sweetheart, cos I couldn’t stand it when I thought you did.’

'I never really hated you, Negan.  I just… I missed who you used to be.’

'I’m so fucking sorry I hurt you back then,’ he whispered, leaning his forehead against yours.  'I didn’t mean to mess you around but, God, I fucking loved you more than anything.’

'I loved you too.’

'Seeing you again, it’s messed me up, Y/N.’

'I know.  Me too.’

He slid his hand to the back of your neck, tilting your head to give him easy access to your mouth, brushing his lips against yours.  'I missed this.’

Fighting every cell in your body that wanted to wrap yourself around him and lose yourself in the feelings he was already evoking inside of you, you pulled back, placing a soft kiss on his cheek and sliding from his knees, pushing yourself to your feet.

'I missed it too, Negan, but I can’t do this.  I need to think.  I need to process… everything.’

'I understand, doll.’

'Can I come back tomorrow?’

'I wish you fucking would.  Seven?’

'Seven.’

You reached out and trailed your fingertips down his cheek, staring into his eyes, smooth and luxurious like melted chocolate, but hesitant and unsure, before forcing yourself to turn and leave the room.


	20. Chapter 20

_Before…_

‘What did you just say?’  Your mind was reeling as you pushed yourself up from the warm chest that you’d been resting on, turning your back on Negan’s anxious expression and burying your face in your hands.  You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at the bombshell he’d just dropped on you, though you had a sudden desperate need to not be touching him, to cover your bare flesh and hide it away from this man that had just ripped your hopes from you so brutally.  'You’ve got to be joking.’

'I’m so sorry.’  His deep rasp tugged at your heartstrings as his voice wavered with emotion, his rough hand rubbing circles across your shoulders.  'I didn’t fucking mean for this to happen.’

'I don’t believe this.’

'Neither did I, but I’ve seen the tests.  She’s definitely fucking pregnant.’

'How?  How did-’  You couldn’t find the words, didn’t even really know what it was that you wanted to ask.  You wanted him to tell you he’d got it wrong, that this was a mistake, but when he interrupted it was to offer a pitiful explanation.

'I only slept with her that one time, I fucking promise you, doll, but I guess we were drunk and fucking careless.’

You snorted, shaking your head in disbelief.  'You can say that again.’

'If I could change it, I would, but I can’t, Y/N.  She says she wants to keep it, so…’  He sighed, his hand slipping from your back.  'I guess, it’s my job to fucking support her, isn’t it?’

'How long have you known?’  Your brain was going over and over the moments you’d shared with Negan since Lucille had spent the night in his room, wondering how many of them had been tainted by his lies.  'I mean, that night was, what, six weeks ago?’

'I only found out after our date.  She was waiting for me when I got out of class the next day.’

'And you didn’t think to mention it?  Didn’t think that it might be something I’d want to know?’  Two weeks.  He’d known for two weeks and he hadn’t breathed a word to you about it.  Instead, he’d disappeared, leaving the house before you woke, and not coming home again until hours after you’d gone to bed.  You wondered now how he’d spent that time, wandering the streets alone, going over his options, wondering what the hell he was supposed to do now, or with Lucille, figuring it out together, laughing at his poor, clueless bit on the side.  'God, Negan, it was bad enough when I thought she was just your girlfriend, but this…  I don’t know what I’m supposed to do now!’

'Look, we never discussed whether she was my girlfriend or not.  She just kinda sprung that one on me when I introduced Max, and I didn’t feel like I could say anything, given the circumstances.’

'That doesn’t matter!  You still should have told me!  What are we even doing right now?’  Your voice was getting louder and screechier, and you hated the way it sounded, clingy and needy, but your heart was shattering into a million little pieces, and you’d lost all control over it.  

'I don’t know.  Do you see what I meant now when I said it was fucking complicated?’

Complicated was both an understatement and an overstatement at the same time.  Yeah, it was complicated.  The two of you had been back and forth, on and off, for a long time now, each falling for the other a little bit more each day, and before you knew it you were in love with him.  If he were to be believed, he felt the same way, but a stupid, reckless mistake had meant that your relationship had become a triangle before it had even really begun, and now there was a baby on the way, adding even more turmoil and  uncertainty to the mix.  But, God, it was also so so simple.  There was a baby on the way, a baby that was ultimately Negan’s responsibility, and that baby needed a father, a family.  

Your glaring moment of clarity caused nausea to wash over you, and you slid from the bed, grabbing a discarded sweater from the floor and shrugging it over your head as Negan’s gaze burned into you.  You turned back to survey the scene, his long, tanned body bare beneath the rumpled covers, his hair tousled, his lips bruised.  His expression was equal parts pain and fear, and you longed to crawl back over to him and wrap him up in your arms, to tell him it was all going to be okay, but you knew you couldn’t.  

Taking a deep breath, you rifled through your drawers for a pair of shorts, pulling them up your legs, and heading for the door. 'Get dressed.  I’m going to make us some coffee.’

'Y/N-’

'No.’  You span back to him, running your hands through your hair and shaking your head.  'I can’t talk about it like this.  I just… I need a minute, okay?’

You were torn in two.  Half of you was so angry with him, for being careless, for sleeping around in the first place, for giving you everything you’d wanted, his body and his heart, only to snatch them away again so cruelly just minutes later.  The other half was completely devastated, for him and for Lucille, to have been this unlucky with somebody that they barely even knew, to be facing all of this doubt and fear, and for the sacrifices she was sure they were both having to make to bring this new little person into the world.  You hated him and loved him so completely and all at once, and it was more than overwhelming.  It was impossible.

When you returned, he’d retrieved his jeans and t-shirt and was sitting on the end of the bed, looking as though he wanted to disappear, to run away and never be seen again.  You passed him a mug of steaming caffeine, and dropped down beside him, taking a sip from your own drink and scalding your lips.

'What are you going to do, Negan?’

'I told you, doll, I don’t have a fucking clue.’

'What do you want to do?’

'I want to be with you.  I fucking love you, Y/N.’

'But?’

'But, there’s a kid to think about now, a baby.’

'Your baby.’

'Yeah.’  Silence fell as you both got lost in your thoughts, and you jumped when he reached over and laced his fingers through yours.  'What do you think I should do?’

'It isn’t fair for you to ask me that, Negan.’

'I know.  I’m asking anyway.’

You exhaled loudly as you considered the question, trying to distance yourself and view the situation objectively, but you knew in your heart of hearts what you were going to say, even as you fought back tears.  'You should do the right thing.’

'Even if that means that you get hurt?’

'I’m already hurt,’ you shrugged.  'It’s too late to protect my feelings here.’

'So, what?  I’m supposed to just shack up with her and play happy families?’

'Do you think you could?’

'Shit, doll, I don’t fucking know.’  His tone was exasperated, his eyes pleading.

'Okay, well, I think you owe it to yourself, and to Lucille, to try, don’t you?’

'What if it doesn’t work out?’

'If it doesn’t, it doesn’t, but you’re a good man, deep down, and I think you’ll regret it if you walk away without giving it a go.’

He blew gently on his coffee, before taking a sip.  'Can I be honest with you?’

'Sure, give it a try,’  you responded, unable to keep the edge from your voice, though you were trying your hardest to be understanding.  

'I’m fucking terrified.’  His voice cracked as he spoke, and his grip on your hand grew tighter.  'I barely even had a father.  How the fuck am I supposed to know how to be one?’

'I don’t know what to tell you,’ you admitted, your eyes scanning his pale face, noticing for the first time how weary he looked.  'But I’d say that actually being there is a good start.  Everything else will come with time.’

'But-’

'Negan, you’ve done so much for me this past year.  You changed your holiday plans so I wouldn’t be alone, you helped me with my assignment when I was freaking out…  You’re sweet, and you care, and you’re kind.  Those are all very dad-like qualities.’

He nodded slowly, his tongue sneaking out to wet his bottom lip.  'I guess.’

Your frustration peaked, and you let out a low growl.  'Please, Negan, I can’t talk you into this anymore, cos it’s killing me.’  Your resolve broke as you spoke, your tears spilling over and running down your cheeks.  How had it come to this?  Less than an hour ago, you’d been a sweaty tangle of limbs, wrapped around each other in your bed, and now you were convincing him to commit himself to another woman.

'Shit, doll.’  He wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you against him and dropping a soft kiss onto the top of your head, pausing to inhale the scent of your hair.  'I’m sorry.  I just keep making this fucking worse, don’t I?’

'I love you,’ you sniffled, burying your face in his shoulder.  'I love you so much, and I can’t stand the thought of you walking out of here right now and being with her, but we both know that’s what has to happen here.  If you can give this baby a family, if there’s even a chance of that, you’ve got to try, and I can’t stand in the way.’

'I know, I know.  I’m so fucking sorry, Y/N.  God, I love you.  I fucking hate this.’  His words came out in gravelly rasps as he peppered your face with kisses, finally capturing your mouth and holding his lips to yours for a long time as you breathed each other in.

When you finally broke apart, you noticed that he too was wrestling with his emotions, the skin beneath his eyes moist as though a tear or two had escaped, and as he quietly declared his love for you once more, you couldn’t tear your gaze away from his.  'I am so in love with you, sweetheart.’

'I love you too, Negan.’

And then he was moving away from you, levering his tall frame up from the bed and slipping out of your door without looking back.

 

* * *

 

_Now…_

When you got back to your room, and shut the door to the rest of the world, you flopped down on to your bed and held your head in your hands, as if you could slow down the rollercoaster that your mind was currently on.  Negan’s revelations had left you feeling drained and depressed, though you at least felt like you had a better understanding of the man now, could identify how each of his losses had shaped him, making him cold and hard.  You could finally see that he was the same person you’d always known, with the scars and bruises of being bashed about by life over the years, and with that knowledge came the hope that maybe he was redeemable.  If misery can change a person, who was to say that a little happiness and love couldn’t change them back?  

Sitting opposite him, listening to him spill his secrets, trusting you enough to let himself be vulnerable, you’d felt that familiar warmth in your heart that you’d come to associate with being in Negan’s company.  You could tell how easy it would be to fall on love with him all over again.  He’d kissed you twice now, barely there brushes of his lips against yours, but each one had sent a jolt of electricity through you.  You knew you needed to be careful, that you had some decisions to make before you could let yourself get carried away.

You rolled onto your back, staring up at the ceiling and remembering how it had felt to lose yourself in Negan the one time you’d been together.  You’d lost count of how many times over the years you’d replayed that night, though of course you’d had relationships since then.  You’d catch yourself comparing your partners to him, and they always came up wanting, no matter how much you hated him for how things had ended between you.  He was so devastatingly handsome, perhaps even more so now than he had been back then, and he’d been so good to you… Until he hadn’t.

You sighed and closed your eyes, trying to quiet your mind or at least think about something else, but it stuck stubbornly to its train of thought, and you drifted into dreams of your leather-clad weakness.


	21. Chapter 21

You weren’t sure what you were expecting when you were welcomed in to Negan’s quarters the following evening, but it wasn’t for him to be back on top form, all signs of yesterday’s vulnerability gone and an arrogant smirk on his face.  You’d spent the day going over and over his revelations from the night before, your fixation on him not helped by the dreams that had dominated your sleep and left you feeling worn and dazed.  Stepping in to his room felt like stepping in to a cocoon, shutting out the rest of the world, just the two of you, locked into a comfortable familiarity, but then that cocky swagger had taken over and put you on edge.

‘Take a seat, doll,’ Negan instructed, producing a bottle of whiskey from the cupboard by his bed.  'Have a fucking drink with me.’

‘I’m okay, actually,’ you insisted, not wanting your mind to be blurred by the alcohol.  'I really wanted to talk to you about last night.’

‘What about it?  You wanted answers, I gave them to you.  There’s nothing else to say.’

‘I want to know if you’re okay.  It must’ve been hard to open up about that stuff.’

He shrugged as if it had been nothing, as if you hadn’t seen the distress in his eyes, the tears that trailed down his stubbled cheeks.  'Shit, sweetheart, it’s a new fucking day.  I’m gonna drink to that, even if you won’t.’

He poured himself a double measure of liquor, taking a sip and smacking his lips together.  'That is the good shit, right there.’

'Right.’  You fidgeted uncomfortably against the couch, suddenly wondering if it had been a mistake to ask for another evening with this man.  He dropped down beside you, and you must have visibly flinched because his expression softened for a moment.

'Look, Y/N, it was fucking hard for me to talk about that stuff, of course it was.  But I’ve got a community to look after, and I don’t have time to dwell on the past.’

'Okay,’ you nodded, slightly mollified, but still wishing he’d drop the attitude.  It was his openness that had given you hope for his redemption, but there was no trace of that now.  'Well, let’s talk about something else then.’

When he offered no suggestions, you decided small talk was the way to go.  'So, how was your day?’

'Jesus fucking Christ, you didn’t ask to come back here to discuss my fucking day, sweetheart, and you know it.’

'Do I?’

'Too fucking right.’  The look he shot you was lascivious, and you felt your cheeks reddening under his gaze.  'You came back to finish what we started last night.’

'And what was that exactly?’  You knew what he was getting at, but his smug expression was putting your back up.

'Let me remind you, doll.’  He drained the remainder of his drink, placing his glass on the floor, before reaching over to you and sweeping you smoothly into his lap.  Raising one eyebrow as if to challenge you to make him stop, he slipped his hand round the back of your neck and brought his mouth down on yours, hard, his lips exerting a bruising pressure as they moved expertly against your own.  

'Negan,’ you gasped, as he released you to let you take a breath, leaning away from him as you tried to regain control, your senses reeling from his kiss.  'I don’t-’

'You don’t what?’ he teased, running his tongue over his bottom lip, before catching it between his teeth.  'You really gonna try and tell me you don’t fucking want this?  That I’m not all you fucking think about?  Cos, I gotta tell you, doll, you’ve been driving me fucking insane.  You have no fucking idea how badly I need this.’

You thought for a moment that you saw a flash of the vulnerability that he’d displayed so clearly the night before, and that was all you needed to convince you that you were in the arms of your Negan, not the stranger who had taken his place.

'I want this.  I do.’  You sunk back into his arms, pressing yourself against his chest as you locked your hands behind his head, holding his mouth to yours, breathing him in completely, overwhelmed with emotion at the recognition that he still tasted the same as he had all those years ago.  His hands pushed and pulled at you as you lost yourself in his kisses, moving you until you were straddling him, and his arms could snake around you and lift you as he levered himself up out of the chair.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, marvelling at the strength contained within his slim-hipped frame, barely registering when your back hit the satin sheets of his bed.  You were too wrapped up in the sensation of him, the feelings he was awakening within you, whimpering helplessly at every brush of his fingertips against your skin.  He lowered himself down on top of you, entwining himself with you, until every part of you was touching, and the warmth from his body spread through yours, causing you to melt beneath him.

You expected to feel him growing more frantic, waited for him to lose himself in the moment, for his grip to become biting, his mouth to become greedy, but he remained frustratingly calm, every touch, every kiss, calculated and controlled.  It was as if you were a game, and he was plotting his manoeuvres to ensure that he achieved his victory.  His gasps and groans were enough to reassure you that he was enjoying your attentions, but he was holding himself at a distance and it drove you to let out an exasperated growl.

'Negan,’ you husked, your breathing heavy, your skin flushed.  'Negan, stop.’

'What’s up, doll?’ he rasped, pulling back to meet your gaze.  

'I can’t…  I mean, is everything okay?’

'Everything’s fucking amazing, sweetheart.  Why?  What’s the problem?’  The smirk he’d worn earlier was still dancing across his features, and it gave you a stark moment of clarity, the realisation causing you to let out a harsh bark of laughter.

'Oh my God.’  Your hands went to his chest, shoving him off of you, and he rolled to your side with a groan, running a hand through his scruffed up curls.  'I don’t believe this.’

He remained silent, and you knew your suspicions were correct. Every line of your conversation had dripped from his tongue so smoothly, almost as if it had been scripted. He knew you so well that it was easy for him to show you just enough of his soft side to get you to surrender yourself to him. 'You planned this.  You knew this was going to happen.  What is this, Negan?’

'It is what it fucking is.’  The arrogant expression had gone now, a narrow-eyed glare in its place.  'You wanted this.’

'But you didn’t.’

'Of course I fucking did, doll.’

'No.  No, you didn’t.  Not the way I did.’

He sighed, shuffling to sit on the edge of the bed, but didn’t offer any explanation.

'You’re forgetting, Negan, I’ve been with you when you needed me, when you wanted me more than anything else in the world.  This, this isn’t that, no matter how much you try and convince yourself.  So, what is it?’

Your eyes cast over the room, your anger only increasing at his refusal to speak, and your eyes fell on a folded square of black fabric on the mahogany table where you’d eaten on your first visit to his quarters.  You scrambled to your feet, tugging at your clothing to smooth your rumpled appearance, and snatched it up, holding it up before you and letting the folds drop out of it to reveal a short, black halter-neck dress.

'You were going to ask me to be your wife?’ you murmured as you pieced together his motives.  'I can’t believe you actually thought I’d agree to that.’

You spun back to face him, anger simmering beneath your skin, burning you with its intense heat.  'Why?  Why are you doing this, Negan?’

'Because I love you.’  His tone was monotonous, almost bored, no hint of emotion seeping through.  

'Bullshit.’  You shut that notion down instantly, pacing back and forth as your thoughts whirled.  'You said your wives need something from you.  What exactly is it that you think I need, Negan?’

More silence, and you flung the dress at him, feeling a quiet satisfaction when the fabric whipped up and hit him in the face.  'Answer me!’

'I don’t know what to fucking tell you, doll.’

'Don’t call me that!  I’m not your doll!  I’m not here to satisfy your every whim!  You can’t dress me up and bring me out to play every time you damn feel like it!’  Halfway through your outburst, another piece dropped into place, halting you in your tracks.  'Oh.  I don’t need anything from you.  This is about you needing something from me.  You’re trying to buy my silence, is that it?  Trying to pay for my honesty with points and pretty things?  What the fuck, Negan?!’

'I have a reputation to uphold.’

'Fuck your reputation!  And fuck you!’

'Y/N-’

'No!  You don’t trust me to keep your little secrets, is that it?  Think I’m trying to earn a name for myself by outing the big bad boss as the messed up manchild that he really is?’

'Doll, I-’

'I told you not to call me that!’  You rounded on him, staring him down where he still sat, his fists clenched at his sides.  'I wouldn’t have told anyone, Negan!  All I wanted from you were your trust and your friendship, but, what a surprise, what I can offer you isn’t enough!  Well, if that isn’t just déjà fucking vu, I don’t know what is!’

'You don’t-’

'I don’t what?  Understand?  You’re right, I don’t understand.  But you need to understand this.  I’m done.  With you, with your little games, with this mindfuck hierarchy you’ve got going on here.  As soon as the sun comes up, I’m leaving.’

'You’re not going anywhere.’  When you finally paused for breath, allowing Negan to speak a full sentence, his voice was low and threatening.  'If you set one foot outside these fences, I’ll order my men to shoot you.’

'You’re an asshole.’

'Maybe, but this is my house and my fucking rules, and you will abide by them or, so help me God, you will suffer the consequences.’

'What are you gonna do, Negan?  Huh?’  You took a step away as he pushed himself to his feet, towering over you, but you refused to back down.  'You gonna burn me?  Gonna hold that iron to my face until I pass out?  What is that, like, foreplay for you?  Is that how you get your wives to sleep with you?  Torture them until they’re unconscious?’

'Get the fuck out of my sight.’

'Gladly.  Stay the fuck away from me, okay?  I don’t ever want to see you again.’

You turned on your heel, storming across the room and out of the door, feeling the walls vibrate as he slammed it shut behind you.

You were too angry to cry, too riled up to break down, your emotions in turmoil as you kicked yourself for letting him get close to you.  You should’ve known that it would be a bad idea.  Ultimately, he’d let you down before and it had been inevitable that he’d do it again.  What was the old saying?  Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me.  Well, Negan had had his second chance, and he’d proved himself once again to be a selfish son of a bitch.  Toxic hatred and rage overwhelmed you, and you slowed to a halt, trying to slow your racing heart, before whirling around to drive your fist into the concrete wall, grimacing when you heard your bones crack under the impact.  You let out an animalistic wail of grief for the man you thought you’d loved once upon a time, and pain as you flexed your broken hand.

Your sounds of anguish brought Simon running from where he was waiting for you outside your door, but you pushed him away, watching as concern, confusion and finally sympathy passed over his face.

'He’s a dick!’ you screeched, needing to vent, to get it out.

'It’s not an uncommon opinion.’

'I hate him.’

'No, you don’t.’

'I do, Simon.  I really hate him!’

'If you hate him, then why is he getting to you like this?’

'Shut up.’

He sighed, reaching out tentatively to place a hand on your arm, lifting it so that he could inspect your rapidly swelling knuckles, the bruising already starting to appear.  'I know it’d be easier to hate him, but you don’t.  If you admit that he’s under your skin, you’re taking the first step to recovery.  If you try to deny it, well, you’re just gonna sink even further, sweetheart.’


	22. Chapter 22

_Before…_

You stretched wearily, your eyes flicking to the clock to check the time, before turning to the next customer as they approached the bar.  It was twenty minutes to closing, and it had been a long shift, with a steady flow of people through the doors.  You’d been left to cope alone for the past two hours, and your feet were killing you.  Passing over the drink that had just been ordered, you breathed a sigh of relief as you sank down onto the stool in the corner, kicking your shoes off and wriggling your aching toes.  

‘You alright there, doll?’

You hadn’t even noticed Negan come in, but the sound of his voice made you smile as you turned to face him.  He hadn’t been in to visit you at work since he’d found out about Lucille, and you welcomed the company after the busy evening.

‘Tired,’ you admitted, stifling a yawn.  'What are you doing here?’

'Lucille’s got her folks visiting, so I had a little time to kill.’

'She told them about the whole baby thing yet?’

He shook his head, and you let out a low whistle as he explained, 'She’s doing it now.’

'Isn’t that the kind of thing you should be there holding her hand for?’

'I offered.  She thought it’d be better if I made myself scarce.’  He spread his hands and shrugged.  'It’s not like I was gonna fucking insist.  Her dad sounds scary as shit.’

You giggled, sliding off the stool, and grabbing a cloth to wipe over the bar.  'Well, I guess her loss is my gain.’

At some point over the last month or so, you and Negan had managed to find a way to be friends.  It wasn’t easy, in fact it still hurt like hell to hear him talk about Lucille, to come so obviously second to her always, but you lived together, and it was just simpler if you could get along.  He’d taken to coming in to your room at night, not to curl up with you as he used to, but to talk, telling you about his fears and doubts, updating you on the progress of the baby.  To start with you’d been uncertain about this new development, but you knew he needed someone to talk to, and it seemed to be you he could open up to.

'So, how are things with you, doll?  I feel like all we’ve done lately is talk about me.’

'Well, that is your favourite subject,’ you teased, moving round to his side of the bar so you could wipe down the front, noting that people were already starting to leave, drifting out the door and into the night.  Negan smirked as he took in your bare feet poking out from below the cuffs of your jeans, and shook his head.  'Things are good though.  All my assignments are done and handed in, and I’ve spoken to Cal about staying here and working over the break and he’s pretty sure he can throw some hours my way, so everything’s going great.’

You knew that he would be able to tell that your tone was overly enthusiastic, your positivity forced, but under your new unspoken agreement, you overlooked things like that now, knowing that sometimes it was the only way either one of you could keep going.  

'Well, that’s fucking great news,’ Negan grinned at you, though you could see that his body had tensed up.  'I, erm, I’ve decided that I’m gonna stay here over the break too, actually.’

'Cool.  Just the two of us in the house then, huh?  That’ll be fun.’

'Three of us, actually.  Or four, I guess, if you’re being pedantic about it.’

You froze, glad you had your back turned to him as you realised what he was hinting at, your smile faltering as a knot formed in your stomach.  'What’s that?’

'I… I told Lucille that she could move in for a while.  Her lease runs out at the end of the semester, and it’s hell trying to find a new room when all the students are heading home, so I told her she could stay until she finds a room for the next school year.’  Your veins filled with ice, as you processed Negan’s words, wondering if you could backtrack and run home to your folks without it being too obvious why you doing it.  'Shit, doll, I’m sorry.  I know it’s not ideal, but…  I didn’t realise you’d be staying.  If I’d known-’

'No, it’s okay,’ you turned back to him, offering him a small smile.  'It’ll be fine.  A little awkward, sure, but… We’ll manage, right?  I’ll be working every hour I can get anyway, so you’ll pretty much have the place to yourselves.’

You could go out a lot, you reasoned.  The campus library usually stayed open over the breaks, and you could mooch around the shops, or go for hikes in the forest.  You really should get outside more often, after all, you’d spent all semester either holed up in your room studying or behind the bar.  

'Sweetheart, if you feel at all uncomfortable about this, you’ve just gotta fucking say and I’ll-’

'You’ll do what, exactly?’ you challenged him, raising your eyebrow and waiting for him to finish.  'It’s your house too, Negan, and she’s your girlfriend.  You have every right to be there, in fact, you both do.  I’ll be fine.’

You ambled over to the door, stepping over the small puddles of spilled drinks, and slid the bolt into place as the last customer, shouted a slurred goodbye and stumbled outside.  The music on the jukebox increased in volume, and you turned to see Negan fiddling with the controls, shooting you a sad half-smile when a slow rock ballad started to play.

'Dance with me, doll?’

You shook your head, feigning amusement, but tiptoed back across the bar to stand awkwardly in front of him, as his eyes trailed from your bare toes up to your eyes, your body growing warm under his gaze.

He stepped forward to cup your waist, linking the fingers of his other hand through yours, and pulling you flush against him as you automatically looped your arm around his neck.  

'Shit, it was a lot simpler when it was just us, wasn’t it?’ he rasped, leaning his cheek against your hair as he began to sway slowly in time to the music, inhaling deeply.  

'It was,’ you agreed, tucking your head into his shoulder, and breathing in his musky scent, feeling your aching muscles relax as you found comfort in his embrace.  'I miss it.’

'You wanna know a secret?’  You knew he felt you nod, but he hesitated for a moment before continuing.  'So do I.  I miss you.’

'You see me every day,’ you countered, attempting to relieve the tension that had descended between you, and you felt a deep chuckle rumble through his chest.  

'We don’t do this every day though.’

'No, we don’t.’  You nestled your face further into the crook of his neck, sighing against his skin.  'If we were together, I’d want to do this every night before we went sleep.’  

'Yeah?’

'Yeah.’  You paused for a moment, letting your imagination run away with you as you pictured yourself with Negan, older, in your own home, holding each other close as you moved to the music, the rest of the world fading away as you focused only on him.  It was like looking in to the future as it should be and your heart ached at the knowledge that it could never happen.  'It would have been perfect.’

You felt him drop a soft kiss on the top of your head, and you looked up to meet his gaze, your breath hitching in your throat at the desperation in his eyes.  'Negan, don’t.’

'Why the fuck not?’

His hand slipped from your waist, skimming over your back until he was weaving his fingers into your hair, pulling your head back so that he could hover over you, his lips millimetres from yours.  'Because we’re not doing this anymore.  You have a girlfriend.’

'I don’t care.’

'And a baby on the way.’

'I don’t care about that either.’

'I do. Please, Negan.  You can’t kiss me.  This can’t happen.’

He sighed in frustration, his breath ghosting over your face and you almost imagined for a second that you could taste him.  'Doll, you’re killing me here.’

'I know.  But if we kiss right now, you go back to Lucille and your future, and I go home alone and spend the night crying over you.  I can’t do it, please, I just can’t.’

He sighed again, but this time he released his hold on you, stepping back and running a hand through his hair.  'You’re right.  I’m sorry.’

'Trust me, so am I.’

Behind you, the jukebox clicked off and powered down as the song came to an end.  

* * *

 

_After…_

The days after your fight with Negan were dark.  You felt yourself sinking into a deep depression, unable to care about anything, a numbness settling over you, leaving you unable to think or feel.  You buried yourself under your covers, hiding away from everything: the pain that throbbed through your broken hand; sunlight; Simon; the stark reality of your situation now, trapped in a community led by a tyrannical dictator with a personal vendetta against you for some reason you still didn’t really understand.  You couldn’t see a way out, so you just didn’t bother trying, and you settled into a routine which only required you to leave your covers behind to use the toilet and shower occasionally.  You’d given up caring about your own hygiene and appearance, but the flow of water cascading over you was calming, and gave you some kind of way to mark the passing of time, something to break up the hours that merged together in the dark haven of your bed.  

At some point, you heard raised voices out in the corridor, Simon cursing and a loud bang as if something had been thrown against a wall, but you squeezed your eyes shut and blocked out the sound, unwilling to let the world outside of your four walls seep in.  Doors slammed in the corridor and a little while later you heard engines start up outside, the clang of the gates as they rolled back to let the trucks roll out.  When a loud knock sounded at your door, you shuffled further down your mattress, as if you could make yourself invisible from your visitor as long as every part of you was hidden from view.  The knock sounded again, and you sighed, forcing yourself out from your nest to pad across to the door and wrench it open.  You’d expected it to be Simon wanting to vent to you about whatever had upset him enough to warrant such a violent reaction, but you found yourself unable to breathe when Negan’s tall figure filled the doorway. 

His face was drawn, his hair tousled as though he’d been running his fingers through it.  He looked tired, exhausted actually, and his mouth was set in a downwards curve.  He was the picture of misery, and you stepped aside without thinking to let him move past you into the room.  A knot formed in your stomach at the realisation that something bad must have gone down whilst you were shutting yourself away from the world, and you opened your mouth to ask what had happened, but his deep rasping whisper broke the silence first.

'I need you.’


	23. Chapter 23

The door swung closed with a quiet click, shutting you inside with Negan, who was standing before you looking utterly desolate.  His shoulders were slumped, his head bowed, and he let his baseball bat fall to the floor with a resounding thud.  He looked defeated.

‘I need you.’  His voice was a low rasp, and you felt your heart skip a beat at his words.

‘Negan, what happened?’

'I fucked up, I think.’  He finally raised his gaze from the floor, meeting your eyes and letting out a hollow laugh.  'I’m trying so fucking hard to protect people, to save people.  What the hell is so bad about that?’

You shrugged, edging towards him, unwilling to answer and offer your opinion on his methods when he looked so broken.  'Negan, please, tell me what’s wrong.’

'One of the outposts was attacked.’

'Oh God,’ you gasped.  'Which one?’  You’d heard a lot about the outposts from Simon during your evening board game sessions so you immediately understood how catastrophic an attack could be.

'The satellite station.’

'Oh no, I’m so sorry, Negan.  Isn’t that-’

'Simon’s place, yeah.’

'Was anyone hurt?’

'Everyone.’  Negan’s voice was barely audible as he shook his head sadly.  'There’s no one left.’

'Oh my God.’  Your mind went straight to the stories that Simon had told you about his people, the men and women that made up his little offshoot of the community.  Knowing that they were all dead made his tales of the comradery and good humour haunting somehow.  'Is he okay?’

'He blames me,’ Negan admitted.  'And for all I know, he’s fucking right to.’

'How is it your fault?’

'I pulled him out of there!  Brought him back here to watch over you!  He reckons if he’d have been there…  Shit, I don’t know.  Maybe he could’ve stopped it.’

'Do you think he’s right?  Could he have made a difference?’

'Honestly, I don’t know.  I mean, it sounds like these dicks snuck in and killed them in their sleep.  For all I know, if Simon had been there, he’d be dead too.’

'Do you know who did it?’

'No.’  Negan’s expression darkened for a moment, and his tone was chilling as he spoke again.  'But I will fucking find out.’

You sighed and moved past him to drop down onto your bed, shuffling backwards to lean against the wall.  'Negan, why did you come here?’

When he turned towards you, his vulnerability was evident in his face, and your breath caught in your throat as you saw the raw pain in his eyes.  'I’m sorry.  I probably shouldn’t have come.  I just…  I needed to see you.’

'I don’t know what you want from me.’

'Neither do I,’ he confessed.  'I’m sorry, Y/N.  I’m so fucking sorry about how I’ve treated you.  I’ve been a complete dick and you deserve more, don’t think I don’t fucking know that.  Since you turned up here, you’ve turned my whole world completely upside down, and it’s made me feel weak as shit, and I can’t…  I can’t be who I need to be to keep things running round here if I’m in that state.’

'I never asked you for anything, Negan.  I would have been perfectly happy just being a normal member of the community.  I didn’t want any of this.’

'But I wanted to protect you.  I needed to keep you close.  Fuck, I missed you, and I guess a part of me wanted to get back to how things were, like the last decade and some didn’t happen.’

'It was never going to be that easy.’

'I know.  I didn’t say it made fucking sense, doll.’  You couldn’t decide whether to shut down his use of the pet name after you’d called him on it the last time you’d spoken, but it felt right in the moment so you let it go.  

'I still don’t get it, Negan.  If you wanted that, then why did you try and manipulate me into becoming your wife?  You could’ve have just told me how you were feeling.  It wasn’t just you, you know.  After you opened up to me about what you’d been through, I was there too.  We could have had everything you wanted, but you just couldn’t trust me, could you?’

'I do, sweetheart, I trust you with my life, I swear.  I was just running scared.  I thought if I made you a wife, no one would see you as my weakness.’

'No, I’d have been just another one of your harem.’

'You would never be that.  You’re special, Y/N.  Always have been.’

'Not anymore.’

'Look, it was a stupid move, I fucking know that.  I run this place through fear.  It’s the only way I know to keep control in this world, and it works.  That means I can’t look like I give a single shit about anything in this place, including you.  I don’t want anyone to think they can use you against me, and I can’t risk them thinking I’ve gone soft and staging a fucking revolution.  If that happens, people die.  Or, more people die.'  His face fell again as his mind drifted back to the attack.

You fell into a tense silence, Negan pacing back and forth like a caged animal, running his hands through his hair, his distress evident.

'I don’t know where we go from here.’  When you finally spoke up, he paused, turning back to you, and shaking his head.

'Neither do I, but we’ve gotta figure this out, because I meant what I said before.  I fucking need you, doll.  We fucked this up once because we didn’t talk things out, and I’m not making that same mistake again.  You know the first thing I thought when I heard about the outpost attack?’

'That you wanted to crush the skulls of the people that did it?’

'No.  Well, yes.  But no.  I thought that I wished you were there, cos I just…  You fucking… You make everything better when you’re in the room.  And I thought that I just wanted to hold you in my arms so I could block the whole fucking world out for a little while, because I don’t want to deal with that shit.  Fuck, doll, I need you to remind me that I’m not the fucking monster that this place keeps forcing me to be.’  

'Negan-’

'I love you.’  Your eyes met his, your heart racing as you saw the honesty in his expression, his hands spread wide as if he was opening himself up to you.  You knew you could crush this man right now with your rejection, could send him crawling back to his quarters, destroyed, but you couldn’t.  He was as much your weakness as you were his, and the fact that, when things had gone to hell, it was you he had turned to had to mean something.

His gaze was questioning as he stood before you, barely breathing, waiting for you to respond, to say something, but you couldn’t speak.  Tears had formed in your eyes at the realisation that this was exactly what you wanted, what you’d wanted since you were in college, and you held out your arms to him, impatient, as he stumbled across the room and into your embrace, falling on to the bed as you wrapped yourself around him.  

You didn’t know who initiated the first kiss, but your lips met in a desperate clash of teeth and tongues, devouring each other greedily, both lost in your need for each other.  His arms around you were so tight that you could feel yourself bruising beneath his touch, but it didn’t matter.  All that mattered was that he loved you, and you needed him, and that right now, in this moment, he was finally yours.  He rolled onto you, his hands grabbing frantically at your clothing, urgently seeking your skin, mapping your curves as he explored you, reacquainting himself with the secret places that made you gasp and pull him closer.  As skin met skin, you lost all sense of where he ended and you began, the world around you fading to black until all you could see, smell and taste was him: the chocolate irises of his eyes as his gaze roamed over you; the musky leather scent that surrounded him; the saltiness of sweat on his skin as you kissed over his chest.

You came undone beneath him, a writhing mess completely under his control, but this time he fell to pieces too, your name falling from his lips over and over, as he claimed you as his own.  Every cell in your body was vibrating with need, as you lost yourself in the sensation of his touch, unable to get enough, missing him even as he moved above you, wanting him nearer, deeper.  You wanted him to consume you completely and he did, his heat burning through you until there was nothing left, but a fragile, spent shell of the woman you had been before.  You were his, totally and utterly his, and as he slipped off of you, pulling you into his arms so he could cradle you against his chest, you thought that you might die if he pushed you away again.

The last time that you’d been in this position, he’d taken your heart and smashed it into tiny pieces, but now he was smoothing your hair back from your face, peppering your eyes and cheeks with feather light kisses, his mouth twisted into a crooked smile.  'You have no fucking idea how long I’ve wanted that.’

'Trust me, I do,’ you teased, rubbing your nose against his and smiling as a chuckle rumbled through his chest.

'I meant what I said, doll.  I fucking love you more than anything.  I won’t lose you again.  I can’t, okay?’

'I love you, too.’  The words left your mouth before you had a chance to even think about your response, and you realised that it was true.  The only reason you’d managed to hate him so violently was because you loved him just as fiercely.  'I do, I love you, Negan.’

He buried his face in your hair, and you clung to him tightly, feeling his body begin to tremble as he fought back the wave of emotion that threatened to drag him under.  'Shit, I’m sorry.’

His voice was thick with emotion, and it broke your heart, as you shifted even closer and let him hold you.  'What for?’

'Everything.  Fuck!  I nearly fucking ruined everything with you, again, and God, those people at the outpost.  Did they die because of me?  Is that cos of what I do, how I run things?’

You couldn’t answer, didn’t have a clue what to say.  You’d accused him of being callous before, of taking pleasure in other people’s pain, but now it was becoming obvious that he felt every single death that ripped through his community.

'I do what I have to fucking do, you know.  I provide for my people, and we protect those that can give us what we need to survive.  It’s a system, right?  It should fucking work, but now this…  I’m just so tired, Y/N.’

'I know, baby, I know.’

'I don’t want to fucking do this anymore.’

Hope filled your chest at his words, and you jumped on them, trying desperately to draw a positive out of this situation.  'Then don’t.  Let’s leave this place, just you and me.  You don’t need to lead anymore.  You can leave your wives and your Saviors, and we can find somewhere that’s just ours.’

You felt his muscles tense beneath you, and thought for a moment that perhaps he might be considering it, but you were disappointed when he replied.  'I can’t.  I’m sorry, doll, I want to, more than anything, but fuck, I have to deal with whoever the hell killed my men.  I have to make sure that no one else dies.’

'Right.’  You could feel your walls going up in a last-ditch attempt to protect your heart.  

'No, no, no, no, no,’ Negan pleaded with you.  'Don’t shut yourself off, sweetheart, please, I’m begging you.  I’m not saying never.  I’m just saying now’s not the time, okay?  Let me deal with this, let me shut this shit down before any more of my people get hurt, and then I am all yours, I fucking swear.  I’ll hand this place over to Simon, and we’ll just go, I promise you.  I just gotta make sure that everyone’s safe first.’

'Is that a real promise, or a Negan promise?’ you snarked at him, though you lifted your head to press a soft kiss to the nape of his neck to show that you were mostly joking.

'A real promise.  I’ll prove it to you, Y/N.  Just you fucking wait.’

You relaxed against his chest again, trying to quiet the voices in your head that were telling you that you’d set yourself up for another fall, as if you’d had any choice at all in the matter.  You’d been doomed to fall back in love with Negan the second you’d stepped foot inside the Sanctuary.  He was your past, your present and the future you wanted, all wrapped in to one, and you were too weak to push him away again.  You closed your eyes and prayed that this time he would come through for you and be the man you needed him to be.


	24. Chapter 24

_Before…_

‘You gonna be okay tonight, doll?’

Negan’s voice from behind you caused you to jump, almost spilling your beer down yourself as you spun towards the door.  'I’m gonna be just fine.  Thanks for your concern.’

The college break had finally started and most of your housemates would be heading home tomorrow, ready to party and spend some downtime with their families as a reward for their hard work over the last semester.  They’d decided to have a house dinner that night to say goodbye, and had invited Lucille to welcome her.  She would be moving in over the weekend, and the thought made you feel sick.  You’d been drinking since around midday, the alcohol calming your nerves and giving you a pleasant buzz that you hoped would get you through the evening, though it had gone to your head quicker than you’d thought it would, and everything was getting a little blurry round the edges.

'Shit, Y/N, are you drunk?’

'Maybe.’  You have him a coy smile, tilting your head to one side and running a hand through your hair.  'We’re celebrating, right?’

'I guess.  Just didn’t realised you’d be starting this fucking early.’

'Oh, stop looking so judgemental,’ you scoffed.  'You like drunk me and you know it.  Drunk me is easier to make a move on, from what I remember.’

He narrowed his eyes at you and you felt a hint of guilt sneaking in to dull your high, batting it down as best you could.  'You trying to make things difficult for me?’

'No, of course not!’  Your words dripped with sarcasm as you stumbled drunkenly over to him, poking your finger into his chest.  'Making things difficult is your job, if I recall.’

After your near-kiss in the bar, Negan had been avoiding you, no longer sneaking into your room to offload all of his worries on you.  As much as you hated it, you had to admit that it was easier that way than when you’d been playing at being friends, pretending that you were perfectly okay as he blathered on about his fears of fatherhood or his doubts about what he could offer Lucille.  You weren’t friends, you were in love with him, and hearing the details of his attempts at building a family was dragging you down in the worst way, though you hadn’t even realised until you were free of the burden.

'That’s not fair.’

'Life’s not fair, Negan,’ you shrugged, taking a swig from your bottle.  'You taught me that.’

He took a deep breath, closing his eyes as though struggling to keep his temper.  'You planning on being a fucking bitch all night?’

You shot him an innocent smile.  'I don’t know what you’re talking about.  I was just in my room, having a drink and minding my own damn business.  You’re the one who wandered in here and started something.’

A quiet cough from the corridor drew your attention, and Negan paled when he saw Lucille standing there, her bump just visible beneath her loose chiffon dress.  Her big doe eyes flicked between the two of you, her expression changing smoothly from uncertain to annoyed.

'Hey handsome,’ she husked, sashaying into your room and reaching up to peck Negan on the cheek, her hand sliding possessively into the back pocket of his jeans.  'Everything okay?’

'Everything’s fine, kitten,’ he crooned, his hand creeping up to stroke her hair as he smiled down at her.  'I don’t believe you two have met.  Lucille, this is Y/N, my… my roommate.  Y/N, this is Lucille-’

'His girlfriend, baby mama-’

'And the cutest girl on campus.’

A look passed between them, one that you didn’t quite understand, and you brushed it off, extending your hand to grasp Lucille’s and shake it firmly.  'It’s so great to finally meet you.  I’ve heard so much about you!’

'All good I hope,’ she beamed, glancing back at Negan who was shifting uncomfortably.

'You’d think.’  You tried to disguise your smirk as a genuine smile and failed miserably.

'What?’

'Don’t worry,’ Negan interjected.  'Y/N started the party early.’

He shot you a warning glance as he rested his hand on Lucille’s back and began to guide her out of the room.  'Let’s go and introduce you to everyone, alright, kitten?  I can’t wait for them to meet you.’

* * *

 

You picked at your food, shoving it around your plate, taking the occasional bite but not really tasting it.  Lucille and Negan were being sickeningly cute together, constantly touching and whispering, though Polly kept up a constant stream of questions about Lucille’s background, how they’d met and how everything was going with the baby.  It was as Max stood to clear the table, holding out his hand to take people’s plates from them that you saw it, fighting back the feeling of nausea that hit you like a freight train.  Lucille’s arm was extended as she passed over a bowl of leftover bread, her finger adorned by a sparkling diamond.  You felt the blood rush to your head, your pulse pounding in your ears as you struggled to comprehend the meaning behind the ring, eventually choking out, 'What’s that?’

You saw Negan squeeze his eyes shut, his jaw tensed, as Lucille practically glowed, holding her hand aloft and proudly displaying the rock that sat there.  'Okay, we were going to wait to tell people, but… We’re engaged!’

You let out a harsh bark of laughter, silencing the cheers and congratulations that your other housemates were offering, a toxic atmosphere settling over the table.  'Engaged?  You’re not serious!’

Your gaze was fixed on Negan, your words directed at him, but it was Lucille who replied, rambling on in a joyous daze.  'Isn’t it crazy?  I honestly couldn’t believe it when he asked me.  It was right after Mum and Dad left, and I was kinda upset cos they’d taken the news about the pregnancy pretty badly, and I thought maybe he was just trying to, like, cheer me up or something, but then I thought, y'know, we’re having a baby together and he makes me happy, so… why not, right?’

'You barely even know each other!’  You couldn’t keep the incredulity out of your voice, the timing of his proposal not lost on you.  'If you hadn’t been dumb enough to get yourself knocked up, your entire relationship would have been a drunken fuck and a walk of shame!’

'Well, that’s true, I guess,’ she conceded.  'But I believe that everything happens for a reason, and if we can get pregnant from that one time, maybe we’re meant to be together.’

'Oh, sweetheart, you’re really not,’ you snapped.

'Okay.’  You could see her cheeks flushing with anger, her eyes becoming sharper, burning in to you as she fought to keep her cool.  'Well, with all due respect, Y/N, you know nothing about our relationship, so-’

'I know nothing about your relationship?  Really?  Is that true, Negan?’  You rounded on him, frustrated that he’d remained quiet the whole time.  'Do I really know nothing about how you feel?  Am I out of line here?’

He sighed, refusing to meet your harsh glare, picking at the label on his bottle of beer.  'I think you should keep your thoughts to yourself, doll.  This isn’t the time or fucking place.’

'Oh, really?  So, what time would suit you better?  When you’re crawling into my bed in the middle of the night cos you need someone to talk to, or when you’re visiting me at work and trying to kiss me when I’m closing up?’

'That’s enough.’

'Do you love her, Negan?  Do you?  Is that why you proposed after all of five minutes, because you’re so in love with her?’

His silence was enough of an answer, and a collective gasp went up around the table, a choked sob erupting from Lucille, before she shoved back her chair and fled from the room.  The others made equally hasty exits, not even bothering to make excuses as they left the two of you alone.

'What the fuck was that?’ Negan growled, his hands clenched into fists on the table.  

'Why didn’t you tell me?’

'Because it’s none of your goddamn business.’

'None of my business?  That you asked another woman to marry you, what, an hour after trying to kiss me and telling me how much you missed me?  I’d say that’s definitely my goddamn business, Negan.’

'Yeah, I did do that, and you told me to stop.  I’m just doing what you told me to, Y/N.’

'I told you to be there for her, and to give it a go!  I didn’t tell you to marry her!’

He lowered his voice, his breathing heavy as he tried to stay calm.  'I’m doing what I have to do, okay?  She needs this.’

'And what about what you need, what I need?’

'I don’t give a shit what you need!’ he roared, and you physically flinched.  'You pushed me away, told me to try and build a family, and that’s what I’m fucking doing!  You have no right to judge me or Lucille, because none of this has anything to do with you!  You gave that up when you told me to choose her!  You did that, Y/N!’

'Yeah, you’re right, I did, but that doesn’t mean that this doesn’t hurt.’  The tears that had been welling up in your eyes overflowed, steaming down your cheeks and dripping on to your chest.  'You should have told me, Negan.  Letting me find out this way was just cruel.’

'And rejecting me in the bar wasn’t?’

'That’s not fair.’

'It’s true.  If you hadn’t been so determined to be the bigger fucking person and force this life on me before I was ready, that ring could’ve been on your finger. You ruined everything,’ he sneered.  'Welcome to hell, doll.  There’s more than enough room here for the both of us.’

 

* * *

 

_After…_

Life as Negan’s girl was different than you expected.  Locating the group that had attacked the outpost was dominating his time, and most days you saw very little of him when the sun was still in the sky.  You knew he was going out with his men, could tell by the mud that caked his boots when he arrived at your door each evening, with dinner and apologies for neglecting you, but you didn’t ask for details and he didn’t offer any.  You knew that he’d talk to you when he was ready, but you were too blissed out on him to want to ruin things by forcing the conversation.  

Although your room arrest had been lifted, you mostly stayed in your quarters, disliking the hostile glares that were aimed at you if you wandered into the canteen or perused the market stalls.  Since the first night you’d slept together, Negan had allowed his wives to keep their privileges and titles, but had explained that all physical interactions would cease immediately.  Some had taken this better than others and, with the rumours that had already been circulating about your relationship with the leader, it hadn’t taken a rocket scientist to figure out who was responsible for stealing his affections away.  Your isolation had stopped bothering you long ago though, even now that Simon had distanced himself from you, embittered that his role as your guard had meant that he’d left his people to fend for themselves.  

Your nights were spent in a tangle of limbs with Negan, laughing and kissing and making up for lost time, until you’d drift off in each others’ arms in the early hours of the morning.  He’d leave you at first light with a kiss and a promise to return, and you’d spend the day reading or else losing yourself in daydreams, reliving every touch, every gasp and contented sigh from the night before.  It was enough.  You’d finally gotten your happily ever after, and you were clinging to it with both hands.  The time slipped languidly by, and, despite your initial concerns, Negan’s guard continued to drop when he stepped into your room, and he’d be the funny, caring man you’d known him to be deep down, quieting the voices in your head that told you this was a mistake.  

Two weeks into your new relationship, you skipped across the room to answer the knock that sounded against your door, expecting it to be him, thrilled that he’d managed to finish work early for the day, and already eagerly anticipating dragging him to your bed so that you could wrap yourself around him.  When you threw back the door though, it was Mandy who stood before you, her hands on her hips, and a smug expression on her face.  

'What the hell are you doing here?’ you snapped, frustrated that it was her and not Negan that had pulled you from your reverie, and instantly on edge at her sudden reappearance in your life.  

'That’s no way to greet an old friend, is it, Y/N?’  She smirked at you and you narrowed your eyes, staring her down until she shook her head and let her arms fall to her sides.  'You’re with Negan now?’

'I am.  What about it?’

'There’s something you need to see.’


	25. Chapter 25

Mandy descended through the Sanctuary, her heels clanging against the metal staircase, her silky hair cascading down her back, as you followed behind her, dragging your feet in reluctance, feeling uncomfortable and slightly afraid.  You didn’t trust this woman, even less so now that Negan had essentially left his wives, and a small part of you worried that she might be leading you in to some kind of jealousy-fuelled ambush, but you swallowed your nerves, forcing them down, unwilling to show your fear.  You hadn’t ever been this far down the building before, had never made it to the lower floors where the workers resided, and you struggled to control your reaction to the cramped, Spartan quarters, the way the people you passed cowered against the walls, their eyes glued to the floor, as Mandy sashayed past.  You weren’t stupid, knowing that a roof over your head of any kind was a blessing in this world, and that the workers were probably just grateful to be safe behind the Sanctuary’s fences, but their living conditions were such a vast contrast to the luxuries that Negan and his Saviors enjoyed that it made it seem worse somehow.  

Down you went, trotting down another flight of stairs, and winding your way through gloomy corridors, leaving the rest of the community behind as you moved further and further into the shadows.  Your discomfort grew as she led you through the maze, and you tried desperately to keep track of the turns she was making so that you’d be able to find your way out of here if it became necessary.  It would be easy to become lost and end up wandering the halls for days, you thought, though you knew logically that your mind was probably being overdramatic, the journey exaggerated by your increasing anxiety.

Finally, Mandy halted, holding her hand out and gesturing to the wall, which had several heavy doors set in to it.  'We’re here.’

‘What is this?’  Your brow furrowed in confusion as you tried to figure out what it was that she was trying to show you.

‘Listen, Y/N.’  Her voice was steady and authoritative, and you found yourself letting her speak, despite wanting to turn tail and flee.  'I know I was kind of a bitch to you the last time we spoke, and you weren’t exactly much better, but…  You helped me get out of the camp alive, before we came here, so I feel like I owe you, and there are things that you need to know.’

‘What things?’  You were still wary, but found yourself growing curious, needing her to continue.  

'Things about Negan.’  You could tell she saw the way that your body tensed, your fists balling at your sides, but she ignored it, ploughing on to get her message across.  'I know you think that we never had any control over Negan, and maybe you were right, but…  Something’s changed, Y/N, and now he’s out of control.’

'What are you talking about?’

'Since the attack on the outpost, he’s lost it.  He’s angrier than any one of us have ever seen him, and he’s hell-bent on revenge.’

'I can understand that.  They killed his men.’

'Yeah, they did.  And he’s killed some of theirs now, too.  Ground their skulls into paste with Lucille, from what I’ve heard.’

'Lucille?’  You flinched at the mention of the name, lost for a moment as you tried to find some meaning in the sentence.

'His baseball bat?’  Mandy raised an eyebrow at you as if this was common knowledge, but it wasn’t something Negan had ever mentioned to you, and you could guess why.  'Anyway, yeah, he killed a couple of their guys, that’s a pretty standard method for getting people to submit to him, and it usually works, but…  Okay, you need to see this, Y/N, alright?  Anything I say, you’re just gonna brush off and convince yourself that I’m lying.’

'What is it, Mandy?’  You were growing frustrated now, your patience wearing thin.  'Where are we?’

'These are the Sanctuary cells.’  Mandy gestured to the doors in front of you, and waited for you to react.

'I didn’t know the Sanctuary had cells.’

'Well, they aren’t used much.  I think Negan throws people in there as punishment for a couple of days at a time, or uses them to break people that are trying to resist joining his Saviors, but it’s never been for very long before.  This… This is sick, what he’s doing now.  He’s going too far, and we don’t… I don’t know what to do.’

'Somebody’s in there?’  Your jaw dropped open as you tried to comprehend what she was telling you.  'How long-’

'Almost two weeks.  I think they let him out to work the fences occasionally, but otherwise he’s just locked away in there.’ Mandy interrupted, needing to share the information that had been weighing on her.  'Open it.’

'I don’t-’

'Open it, Y/N.’

You stepped forward, your hand resting on the cool metal handle as you took a moment to prepare yourself, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath.  You could hear Mandy shifting impatiently behind you, and you gritted your teeth and pulled, dragging the heavy door outwards and stepping forwards into the dark.

The smell hit you first, the pungent scent of sweat and human waste turning your stomach so that you were almost forced to pull your t-shirt up over your nose to weaken it, but you fought the urge, forcing yourself to experience this fully.  As your eyes adjusted to the gloom, you could make out a figure hunched into the corner of the cell.  He was wearing a dirty tracksuit, a couple of sizes too big, and he peered through straggly hair to squint up at you.  His face was swollen and bruised, dried blood crusting in the crevices of his skin, and his cheeks were sunken as if he hadn’t eaten properly in a long time.  He looked pathetic, less than human somehow, and it broke your heart as you took another step towards him, extending your hand.

'Hey,’ you whispered, keeping your voice low and soothing as he cowered away from you.  'I’m Y/N.  I’m not gonna hurt you, okay?  I just want to talk.’

He didn’t make a sound, his eyes tracking your movements as you slid down the wall to sit beside him, trying to keep your breathing shallow so that the stench didn’t overwhelm you.  

'What’s your name?’

'Daryl.’  It came out as a hoarse rasp, almost inaudible.  'Daryl Dixon.  I ain’t Negan.  I’ll never be Negan.’  

You knew that Negan insisted that his people refer to themselves by his name, and it now became blatantly obvious that he was trying to break this poor man, force him to change sides and become a Savior.  You wondered what it was about him that had sparked Negan’s interest, why he was so dead set on getting him to join his team, but you supposed it would be hard to tell when the poor guy was so broken.  

'Where are you from, Daryl?’

He narrowed his eyes at you in a fierce glare, their piercing blue shining through the gloom.  'What the hell game are ya playin’ here?  Did he send ya or what?’

'No, Negan doesn’t know that we’re here.’   You glanced up at Mandy who was still out in the corridor, watching your exchange, and she nodded in confirmation.  'He can’t know that we’ve been here.’

'Then why are ya?’

'I just…  I wanted to meet you.’

'Why?’

'To see if I could help you.’  The words left your mouth before you could even think, and you realised that that was exactly what you were going to do.  'I want to help you get out of here, but I need to know I can trust you first, so I need you to answer some questions for me, okay?’

When Daryl nodded hesitantly, you posed your question again.  'Where are you from?’

'Alexandria.  It’s a ways away from 'ere.’

'What is it?  A camp?’

'More like a… a settlement or somethin’ I guess.  We got fences, houses, people…’

'So, how did you end up here?’  He fell silent again, and you realised that he didn’t want to admit to the attack on the outpost.  'Were you there?  At the satellite station?’

He nodded reluctantly, his gaze fixed to the wall opposite.  

'Why did you do that?  You killed our people while they were sleeping, innocent people.’

'Ain’t none o’ yer people innocent,’ he snapped.  'We needed supplies, so we did a deal with another group that were havin’ some trouble with Negan.’

'What do you mean they were having some trouble with Negan?  What sort of trouble?’

'He was takin’ all their stuff, threatnin’ to hurt their people if they couldn’t give 'im what 'e wanted.  He had one o’ their men, was usin’ 'im as leverage.’

'Shit.’

'So, we went in an’ dealt with it.  'Cept there’s a damn sight more o’ you than we’d been told.’

'You thought it was just the outpost?’

'Yeah.  Shoulda known really.  Was too damn easy.’  He scoffed, picking at a loose thread on the knee of his trousers with worn, dirty nails.  

'Then what happened?’

'Look, what exactly d'ya wan’ from me, lady?’

'I just-’

'Wanna know why me, is that it?  Wanna know why he dragged my ass back 'ere an’ locked me up, cos I sure as hell don’ look like no prize, right now, do I?’

You watched him sadly as he spat the words at you, and you could feel his pride radiating from him, having returned full force at the simple act of someone speaking to him like he was a person.

'I just want to understand.’

'Negan confronted us, ambushed us in the woods.  He killed one o’ our people, an’ I lost my temper and decked him.  He din’t like it very much.’

'So, he took you hostage.’

'Tha’s the short version, yeah.’

'I don’t know what to say.’  You took a moment to process what he’d told you, shaking your head in disbelief.  Mandy shifted in the hallway, moving down the corridor a little way, and allowing a little more light in to the cell, throwing Daryl’s protruding cheekbones into even starker relief.  'Have you been eating?’

'Nah.  I ain’t eatin’ the dog food they’ve been givin’ me.’

'Seriously?  They feed you dog food?’

He nodded, lifting his chin in defiance, and you grit your teeth as a wave of anger washed over you.  

'Y/N!’  Mandy’s urgent whisper brought you to your feet, and you moved towards her, stepping out into the fresher air to see her looking wildly round.  'Someone’s coming!  We have to go!’

You turned back to Daryl, regret in your eyes as you realised that you were going to have to shut him in again, and you considered for a moment telling him to run, but you knew he wouldn’t get far.  If you were going to get him out of here, you needed time.  'I’ll come for you, I promise.’

You eased the door back into place, hearing a blast of loud, obscenely happy music trickling out from the cell as you did so.  Mandy’s hand wrapped around your wrist, tugging you along behind her as she jogged back along the corridor, leading the way back to your room, taking a longer route than before to avoid any curious stares.  When you reached your quarters, you wandered dazedly in and slumped to the floor, leaning back against your bed and shaking your head in disbelief.

'I can’t believe it.’

'I know.’  Mandy perched on the bed beside you, her hand reaching out to rest hesitantly on your shoulder.  'I’m sorry, Y/N.  You needed to know.’

'I did, you’re right.  I just…  I thought…  He said it was all an act, that he was just doing what he had to to protect his people.  That, down there, that’s not protecting anyone.’

'No.’  

You sighed, squeezing your eyes tight shut as you tried to rid yourself of the image of Daryl huddled in his own mess, the stubbornness in his stare.  'We’ve got to help him.  I can’t… I can’t just leave him there.’

'Sherry’s working on it,’ Mandy admitted.  'She knows the guy or something.  Said he’d helped her and Dwight out before.’  

'She thinks she can get him out?’

Mandy shrugged.  'She thinks she can give it a pretty good go.’

'Reckon she can manage one more?’

'You’re not gonna talk to Negan about this?’

'Oh, I’ll talk to him,’ you reassured her.  'But after that, I’m done.  I want out of here, Mandy.  I can’t do this anymore.’

Your voice cracked, and you felt tears spill down your cheeks, but you were too shocked and miserable to do anything to stop them.  To your surprise, Mandy pulled you against her legs, stroking her hand down your hair as she tried to soothe you.  'Okay, honey, whatever you say.  You want out, we’ll get you out.’


	26. Chapter 26

_Before…_

You collapsed onto your bed in an exhausted heap, feeling drained and miserable.  The room around you was bare, the drawers emptied of your belongings, the posters and photographs removed from the walls.  Your suitcase, holdall and a few tatty cardboard boxes stood beside the door, waiting to be ferried to your waiting car and loaded into the boot.  You’d spoken with one your friends on your course and arranged to stay in her room over the break, paying her a token rent, on the condition that you’d be out by the time classes started up again.

Living with Negan and Lucille had become too hard.  Following your outburst at the house dinner, they’d managed to patch things up, but there was still a tense atmosphere that hung over you all.  Lucille would refuse to acknowledge you, studiously ignoring you if you happened to enter a room that she already occupied, brushing past you on the stairs without so much as a glance in your direction, though at night her moans and cries were loud and exaggerated, and you knew she was punishing you in the only way she could.  You kind of wished that Negan would ignore you too, instead of making strained small talk, his expression vacant.  It was like you were strangers, and you hated it.  You hadn’t wanted any of this.  This wasn’t how things were meant to turn out.  

With a sigh, you pushed yourself up into a sitting position and shuffled back to lean against the wall, letting the memories of your time in this room settle over you, and losing yourself in them for a little while.  

 

* * *

 

_‘Hey, how’s it going, doll?  You settled in okay?’  
_

_You glanced up from where you sat on bed your bed, poring over a textbook to see Negan leaning in your doorway.  ‘Yeah, I think so.  I’m all unpacked and Polly’s already dragged me out shopping for cushions and photo frames and posters…’  You raised a hand to gesture at the girly furnishings decorating your room._

_‘Yeah, that sounds like Poll,’ he smirked, raising his eyebrows as he surveyed her additions.  ‘Have you met the others yet?’_

_‘Everyone but Seline,’ you nodded.  ‘They seem cool.’  
_

_‘They’re a decent bunch of people,’ he nodded, crossing his arms over his chest.  ‘You could do a lot worse as far as housemates go.’_

_‘Good to know.’  You grinned and motioned for him to come in which he did, loping over to the bed and dropping down beside you.  ‘I’m not much of a people person, I gotta admit.  I get kinda shy and convince myself that I’m just coming off as a stuck-up bitch.’_

_He snorted, shaking his head.  ‘Well, you made a pretty good first impression on me.’_

_You smiled at him, feeling your cheeks flush at the compliment, and wracked your brain for a change of subject, but he was already moving on._

_‘You working tonight, doll?’  
_

_‘Nope,’ you sighed.  ‘Tonight it’s just me and my textbooks.  I’ve gotten behind on the reading for class so I figure I should use my night off to get caught up.’  
_

_‘Well, shit, that’s depressing.’  His lip was curled in disgust as he took in the highlighted passages and post-it notes covering the page you currently had open.  ‘How d’you feel about taking a break?  Come on, let’s take a walk and get some pizza.  My shout!  Consider it your welcome gift.’  
_

_You considered his offer for a moment, knowing you really should try and make some headway with your course work, but you also badly wanted to spend some time with this man.  Something about him intrigued you.  A  moment later, decision made, you were clambering off the bed and shrugging your hoody over your shoulders._

_‘Well, come on then.  I’m starving!’_

You’d walked across town to the pizza place that Negan proclaimed to the best in the state, carrying the steaming boxes back to the college sports fields and sitting at the top of the bleachers, chowing down on greasy perfection.  You’d talked constantly, about classes, your other housemates, the places you’d lived before, and where you’d grown up.  Somehow, Negan knew just how to combat your shyness, and you didn’t once lapse into an awkward silence, silently celebrating every time you made him laugh.  He had a deep rumble of a laugh, and it brought a smile to your lips every time it erupted out of him.  You’d been doomed from the start, you thought now.  You literally hadn’t stood a chance.

 

* * *

_‘Doll, you look like shit.’  Negan stood over you in your bed, where you were huddled up under your covers feeling sorry for yourself.  The flu had hit you hard, and you felt like death.  His face was concerned, as he took in your pathetic state.  'Anything I can do?’_

_'Nuh uh,’ you croaked, sniffing loudly, and burying yourself further into the mountain of blankets.  'I’m fine.’_

_'You’re not fine, sweetheart,’ he shook his head, his brow furrowed in thought as he turned away from you.  'I’ll be back in a minute.  Don’t go anywhere.’_

_'Fat chance of that,’ you muttered, closing your eyes and praying that the oblivion of sleep would creep over you, but your body remained stubbornly aware._

_He returned ten minutes later with a mug of hot, sweet tea and a stack magazines that he’d stolen from Polly’s bedside table.  'Here you go, drink this.  It might perk you up a little.’  He handed you the mug as you shifted to sit upright, and you took a grateful sip, feeling the hot liquid soothe your sore throat.  'Now, I’m gonna update you on all of the shit-hot celeb gossip and fashion tips you’ve missed while you’ve been laid up.  How’s that sound?’_

_You gave him a small smile and nodded, as he settled himself on the floor beside you and selected a magazine from the pile._

_'Right then.  Fuck me, would you look at that outfit?’  He crowed, holding the magazine aloft so you could inspect the metallic mini-dress that the girl in the picture was sporting.  'Shit, doll, maybe I’m getting old, but she looks like she’s ready to be shoved in the oven!’_

_You giggled throatily, shuffling closer so that you could peer over his shoulder as he continued to flick through the pages.  'Ahh now, here’s the fucking good shit, right here.  Problem pages.  Are you sitting comfortably?’_

He’d sat with you all afternoon, reading you mindless nonsense, some of which was months old. You’d fallen asleep eventually and woken to find him still there, slumped against the wall as he snored quietly. The idea that he’d stayed to watch over you even after you’d drifted off had given you a warm glow in your heart. It seemed that there was nothing that this man wouldn’t do for you. Not for the first time, you’d wondered if his feelings for you were stronger than just friendship. It wasn’t something you’d ever discussed at that point, but that was when you’d known that you were in danger of really falling for him, your schoolgirl crush developing in to something deeper. If only you’d known then what you knew now. All of your memories felt tainted.

 

* * *

_You sat cross-legged on your bed across from Polly, who was munching on a chocolate from the bowl of sweets between you.  She’d broken up with her boyfriend earlier that day and had sought you out for some quality girl-time._

_'You’ll see, Poll,’ you reassured her as you swigged from the cocktail that you’d mixed up in the kitchen, a bizarre concoction of whatever you could find in the cupboard . 'You’ll have so much more fun being single.  There’s so many guys who’d kill for a girl like you.’_

_'You don’t look like you’re having that much fun for a single girl,’ she observed, tilting her head on one side teasingly and you guessed what was coming.  'Unless you’re not single, that is.’_

_'I can promise you, I am most definitely not with anyone.’_

_'Uh huh, whatever you say.’  She quirked her eyebrow at you.  'So, there’s nothing at all going on with you and Negan then?’_

_You felt your cheeks colour, and looked away, feigning interest in a small stain on the bedspread.  'No.’_

_'Y/N, you’re blushing!  I can totally tell that something’s happened!’_

_'Okay, okay,’ you confessed.  'But you can’t tell anyone, cos I don’t really know what it means or if it even means anything at all, right now.’_

_She drew a cross in the air above her heart and leant towards you, her eyes sparkling with interest.  'So, come on then.  I want all the juicy details…’_

That night had been the one and only time you’d spoken to another person about your relationship with Negan. Shortly after, he’d slept with Lucille, and you’d felt so foolish that you’d kept everything to yourself after that.  You figured Polly had probably just assumed that things between you had tailed off before they’d even really gotten started.  It had felt good to giggle with her about it though, to share your excitement and uncertainty and know that she knew how it felt. You’d surprised even yourself when you’d described the intensity of your feelings, and she’d stroked your arm kindly and whispered, 'You sort of love him, don’t you?’  You’d scoffed and changed the subject but those words came back to you later that night, when you were lying alone in the darkness, and you’d realised how true they were.

 

* * *

_'You’re gonna break my bed,’ you squealed as all of your housemates piled on top of you, half-suffocating you under their combined weight.  They’d been having a house dinner which you’d ducked out of, having an assignment you needed to finish before the morning, and they’d hunted you down, determined to force you to join in the fun.  Polly’s hair brushed over your face and you could feel Negan’s fingers digging in to your ribs as they tried to tickle you into submission._

_'Okay, okay, I guess I can take a break for an hour!’_

_Max’s triumphant, 'Hell yeah!’ brought a smile to your face as the five of them clambered off of you and fought for space on the mattress.  Negan had crawled up to sit beside you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you into the crook of his neck, where you snuggled against the soft wool of his sweater._

_A flash of light from the other side of the bed caught your attention, and you turned to scowl at Polly who was holding her camera aloft.  ‘Really, Poll?’_

_‘What?’ she cooed innocently.  ‘You guys looked so sweet!  I had to!’  
_

_You rolled your eyes at her, continuing to frown, but Negan let out a throaty chuckle, squeezing you tighter.  ‘Well, shit, of course you fucking had to!  We’re cute as shit, doll, you and me.’_

_You’d switched your glare to him, but it was short-lived as he winked at you, coaxing you out of your funk.  ‘Fine,’ you conceded.  ‘But you’re printing me a copy, okay?’_

You reached over to the bin where the photo that Polly had taken that night was staring up at you, wrinkled by the violence with which you’d yanked it off the wall.  You looked so happy, surrounded by friends, hopeful and in love.  All you could see now were your ignorance and naivety.  You didn’t feel like the same girl anymore.

 

* * *

 

You were pulled back into the room by a sharp rap on the door, and you looked up to see Negan peering in, blocked from entering by your piled up possessions.

'What do you want, Negan?’ you sighed, pushing yourself up from the bed, and busying yourself closing the window, and making a last check of the drawers in your bedside cabinet.  

'You going somewhere?’

'Yeah, actually,’ you admitted.  'I’m moving out.’

'Why?’  He looked genuinely confused, and you found yourself stunned that he’d even need to ask.

'Why do you think?’  You stepped towards the door, heaving your holdall up into your arms, but he took it from you, moving to block your path.

'You don’t have to leave, Y/N.’

'Are you kidding?  I can’t stay!’

'Why?’

You shook your head and turned your back on him, letting out a mocking laugh.  'Why can’t I stay here with two people that obviously hate me and want me as far away as possible do you mean?  Or why can’t I stay and watch the man I love fawn over his fiancée twenty-four seven?  What exactly is it that you’re asking me right now?’

His face fell, and he lowered your bag to the floor, stepping over your boxes so that he could move in front of you, his hand slipping underneath your chin and lifting your head up so you had no choice but to meet his gaze.  'You think I hate you?’

'Well, yeah.’  

'Oh, doll.  How could you possibly think that?’

'You can’t be serious.  You’ve barely spoken to me since the nightmare dinner, unless it’s to make meaningless small talk about my working hours or whose turn it is to wash up.  That’s not how you treat someone you like, is it?’

He sighed, rubbing his thumb over your cheek.  'Oh, sweetheart, that’s all for Lucille’s benefit.  Now, she fucking hates you.’

'Great, well, that’s just…  Y'know what?  It doesn’t even matter.  I can’t live here with the two of you anymore, so I’m just gonna go, okay?’

You made to move past him, but he caught your wrist in his hand, halting you in your tracks.  'I wish you wouldn’t.’

'What?’ you erupted, spinning back to face him.  'What do you want from me, Negan?  Cos right now you’re yanking me back and forth so hard I’ve got whiplash!  You want me to stay here just you don’t have to feel bad?  Is that it?  Or maybe you’re thinking we can start things up again and maybe Lucille won’t find out, huh?  That living arrangement would suit you just fine, right?  Negan and his women!’

'Y/N-’

'No.’  You were backing away from him, shaking your head.  'I don’t want to hear it.  It isn’t fair for you to say things like that to me.  You’re engaged to someone else, for Christ’s sake!’

Your heels hit the back of one of your boxes, and you felt your balance fail you as you began to topple backwards, but then Negan was there, his hands gripping your waist, steadying you as he stood over you.  'It’s okay, doll.  I’ve got you.’

You couldn’t speak.  His eyes were locked on yours, the need in them intoxicating.  He was leaning over you, his breath ghosting over your skin, as his fingers trailed up your body until he was brushing your hair back and cupping your cheeks, as his face descended towards yours.  His kiss was gentle, loving, his lips velvety soft against your own, and you couldn’t help but respond, your hands moving to rest on his chest, revelling in the defined muscles that flexed beneath your touch.  It wasn’t until you tasted salt that you realised you were crying, but you didn’t pull away, stepping further into his embrace and letting him take control, enjoying the feel of him, the way his kisses could make you melt. It was like reality had ceased to exist, just for a minute, but the slam of a door, and the sound of Lucille’s sultry voice calling, 'Honey, I’m home,’ brought you crashing back down to earth.

'I’ll be right there, kitten.’  Negan broke off the kiss to call down to her, but he still held you tightly to him, his gaze not leaving yours.  

You reached up to trail your fingers down his stubbled cheek, taking a moment to memorise his face, how he made you feel as he cradled you in his arms, and then you stepped away, nodding in acceptance that this was the last kiss you could share.

'Goodbye, Negan.’

 

* * *

 

_Now…_

When Mandy left you, promising to speak to Sherry about the possibility of getting you out along with the prisoner, you spent the next couple of hours pacing your room, trying to decide exactly what it was that you wanted to say to Negan.  There was so much, too much, and you couldn’t figure out where to start.  You let the thought of the conversation dominate your mind, glad to have something to focus your mind on other than what this meant for the two of you.  You were completely torn, unable to figure out exactly which Negan was the act: the kind, honest man that laughed with you and held you through the night, or the sadistic monster that killed and tortured without a second thought.  You weren’t sure it was a question you could answer anymore and that meant that you couldn’t be here, couldn’t be with him in the way that he wanted.  

When the knock came at your door, you paused before opening it, taking a moment to compose yourself, determined to keep your temper no matter what pathetic explanations Negan tried to throw at you.  You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to stand upright, your shoulders back.  You needed to look confident to feel confident - he’d taught you that.  As the knock sounded again, you set your face into a determined glare, and pulled it open to face your leader, your lover, your downfall.

'We need to talk.’


	27. Chapter 27

The smile fell from Negan’s face as the door opened before him, and he was met with the determined set to your face, your eyes cold and unfeeling, your mouth a thin slash of pink against your pale skin.  

‘We need to talk.’

He steeled himself, brushing past you into the room and placing the plates of dinner clutched in his hands down on the table, before turning back to you.  'Something wrong, doll?’

‘I found Daryl.’

He let out a snort of amusement, shaking his head and rubbing his hand across his beard, but his eyes had narrowed, and you’d seen the flash of annoyance that crossed his face before he’d regained control.  'My buddy Daryl, huh?  He’s gonna be one of my best men before long, just you wait.’

'I don’t think he’s gonna be that easy to break.’

'Nah, probably not,’ Negan admitted, seeming to relax slightly, having obviously expected you to jump straight in with the rage and accusations.  'He’s a tough S.O.B., I’ll give him that.  But I have my methods, and I’ll get him eventually.  It’s just a matter of time.’

'Methods like sleep deprivation, beatings, isolation, starving him-’

'Hey!’ Negan snapped, cutting you off.  'We haven’t starved anyone!  He gets fed, he just refuses to eat!’

'Because you feed him dog food.’  Your tone was passive, matter of fact, and you watched Negan trying to figure out how the conversation was going to go.

'Sounds like you and Daryl had time for a nice little chat,’ he smirked.  'Where the fuck was my guard duty while this was going on?’

'Don’t know,’ you shrugged.  'There was no one else down there while I was there.’

'Well, that’s just fucking fantastic!  I’ll get Simon to check the work orders!  Somebody’s getting the fucking iron in the morning!’  He made to march towards the door, but you moved in front of it, blocking his exit.

'Negan.’  Your voice was stronger than you felt, authoritative, and you stared him down as he loomed over you.  'Sit.  Down.’

The muscle in his cheek ticked as he processed your command, and he took another step closer, his voice low and sneering.  'Who the fuck do you think you are to tell me what to do?’

'I can be your worst nightmare if you want me to be,’ you threatened, summoning every ounce of strength you had to stop your voice from shaking.  'So sit the hell down, Negan, or I swear-’

'What?  You’ll do what exactly?’

'I haven’t figured that out yet,’ you confessed, holding his gaze.  'But I’m super pissed off right now, so do you really want to risk it?’

He continued to glower at you, but backed off, stalking over to one of the chairs and throwing himself into it, reminding you a little too much of a petulant teenager. You knew you’d been taking a risk, ordering him around and issuing threats, but you’d been counting on his feelings for you dictating his reaction and it had paid off.

'Okay.’  You pulled out the chair opposite him and sat down, leaning your elbows on your knees as you stared at the floor, wondering what to say next.  Everything you’d planned in your head earlier had disappeared as soon as he’d appeared in front of you, and you were struggling to keep your nerve.  'Why are you holding him hostage?’

'I told you, he’ll be one of my best men one of these days.  People are resources and he’s one hell of an asset.’

'Bullshit,’ you replied.  'Try again.’

'Doll, what-’

'You have plenty of Saviors, even after the attack on the outpost.  I’d put money on you easily outnumbering pretty much every other community in the state.  You don’t need more manpower, Negan, especially not someone who quite clearly doesn’t want to be here.  You’re wasting valuable time having someone watch him round the clock, and I know you’re not that patient.  So, let’s try that again.  Why are you keeping him here?’

'He was one of the ones that attacked that outpost, did he tell you that?’

'Yeah, yeah, he did.  And I know you wanted revenge for that, so if you’d have killed him, I’d probably understand.  I hear you killed a couple of others from his group.  This isn’t that though, is it?  Is it for leverage, so Alexandria will give you whatever it is that you want from them?’

'Wow.  Sounds like Daryl had a hell of a lot to say.’

'Answer the question.’

'Yeah, alright, it’s for leverage.  I’ve gotta have something to hold over Rick’s fucking head to make sure he stays in line.  Standard practice, doll.  Nothing to get your panties in a twist about.’

'And is it standard practice to keep your hostages locked up for weeks?  To feed them shit that’s barely fit for animals?  To make them less than human?’

'Well, I can’t fucking win with that question, can I?  If I say yes, I’m a monster, and if I say no, I’m a monster.  Is that what you’re trying to fucking do here, Y/N?  Push me away again?  Prove to yourself that I’ve changed?’

'I just want to know who you are.’

'I’m just a man.  A man who loves you very much.’

'A man who uses fear and violence and murder to get what he wants?’

'Okay, so maybe I’m a man who’s lost his fucking way a little, but only because I’m trying to save people.  Why is it so hard for you to accept that, doll?’

'Because the way I see it, you’re not really saving anyone.  The people here would be just fine without you threatening other communities and stealing their supplies.  The supplies are obviously out there if they’re able to find them, so why can’t you just go out and get them yourself?  And I’m pretty sure that not one of the groups that you claim to protect feels particularly protected when your grinding their people’s heads into the dirt with Lucille!’  You saw him flinch as the name fell from your lips, but you ignored it and carried on. 'I’m giving you one last chance, Negan.  Leave with me tonight, and we can be together, far away from here, just you and me.’

'Or what?’

'Or I’m done.  Because this place has made you a monster, and you can make all the excuses you like, but there’s a part of you that gets off on the power.  I’m not gonna be just another pawn in this little game you’re playing here, and I can’t keep having this same conversation with you over and over again!  So, if you won’t go, if you can’t walk away and not look back, then we’re done.’

'Could you really do that though, doll?’  Though his tone was challenging, Negan’s eyes were pleading with you, but you refused to back down, proud of yourself for holding it together so far.  'Could you really give this up again?’

'I won’t be with someone who values their power and their own sense of entitlement over me.’

He shook his head, running his tongue over his bottom lip, as a disbelieving smile spread over his face.  'I can’t believe you’re gonna throw away everything we have.  We’ve waited over ten years for this!’

'All I’ve done is given you a choice, Negan.  I haven’t thrown anything away.  It’s me or the Sanctuary.  If we lose this, it will be down to you, but it’s your choice to make.’

'What about my people?  They’ll die without me.’

'Oh, please, let’s give the ego trip a rest, shall we?’ you snarked, growing tired of his excuses, of the obstacles he kept throwing up in your path.  'If anything, I’d bet they’d thrive without you, but I think it’d just kill you to see that happen, wouldn’t it?’  

'They’re weak.  They need order, rules, someone to fucking lead them.’

'Except, this place hasn’t been here since the beginning, has it?  You told me that.  You also told me that, apart from some of your Saviors, there’s nobody here that was here in the first few months when the walkers got in.  Which means every single person under your rule has survived the outside world just fine without you leading them.  They made it for months without you threatening them, and ordering them to work for your stupid points just to get enough food to stay alive.  Kinda puts paid to your whole, 'They need me’ crap, doesn’t it?’

Negan’s face was growing red, his hands balled into fists on his knees but he made no move to get up.  'They fucking stay though, don’t they?  Shit, if it’s really that fucking bad here, why don’t they just leave?  They’re survivors, after all.’

'Because surviving is exhausting!  They stay for your fences and your roof.  That’s all.’

He changed tack, pleading with you to rescind your ultimatum.  'Please, doll.  I need you, you know that.  I can’t fucking do any of this without you, not now I know how fucking good it is to have you by my side.’

'You’re not gonna change my mind.’  It was killing you to not give in to him.  It had crossed your mind that, had you not gone with Mandy earlier that evening, you would probably be losing yourself under his touch right now, coming undone beneath him in your bed, professing your love for him over and over.  'If we’re going to go, it needs to be before dawn.  I want to be out of here before the sun rises.  You’ve got till then to make your decision.’

You pushed yourself to your feet, crossing back to the door, and holding it open, making it clear that you wanted him to go.  He levered himself out of the chair, his face a picture of misery as he moved towards you, pausing in the doorway to turn back to you and stroke his fingers down your cheek.  You melted into his touch, cursing yourself for being so weak, and when he bent his head to brush his lips against yours, you inhaled deeply, memorising the scent and the taste of him.  Somehow you knew this would be the last time you’d be close enough to touch him.  Somehow you knew that he wasn’t coming back.


	28. Chapter 28

_Before…_

It turned out that heartbreak suited you. You weren’t eating much, which meant that most of your wages from the bar went straight into your savings account, and you weren’t sleeping much either, which meant that you spent most of your nights huddled over your textbooks studying. It wasn’t, perhaps, the healthiest lifestyle, but it was working, and at least you were managing to force yourself out of bed every day when all you really wanted to do was to go into hibernation until your heart had healed. You’d stayed at your friend’s place for a few weeks whilst she was home for the college break, before finding another room in another share house, where you kept yourself to yourself, rarely venturing out of your room, and shunning any of your housemates’ attempts at socialising. You just didn’t have the energy for that anymore.

You’d popped in to the mall to look for a birthday present to send home for your mom when you quite literally bumped in to the two people you least wanted to see. You’d had your head down rummaging in your bag for your purse when you’d walked headfirst into a solid chest, strong arms snaking out to steady you as you reeled back in shock. When you glanced up and met Negan’s eyes, your heart gave a warning pang of pain and you hastily stepped away from his touch, watching his face fall as his hands dropped to his sides.

‘Oh, it’s you.’ You turned your head to see Lucille a couple of feet away, obviously having carried on walking, oblivious at first to your collision. She was glowing, her stomach rounded, her skin fresh and dewy. Pregnancy looked good on her. 'You should watch where you’re going. Although, I guess you’re kinda used to getting in people’s way, aren’t you?’

You swallowed your retort, lowering your head and stepping around Negan so you could keep moving and leave them behind, muttering, 'I’m sorry,’ as you scurried away. Your pulse was pounding in your ears, your cheeks hot with embarrassment, as you hid behind your curtain of hair.  You kept walking, careful to weave around anyone else in your path, single-minded in your determination to get away, although you had no idea where you were going. You darted into a shop, and pressed yourself against the wall, breathing hard, squeezing your eyes shut as you tried to calm yourself. When you opened them again, Negan was in front of you.  His leather jacket hung loose on his shoulders, and his hair was slicked back from his face.  He was so gorgeous that he could still take your breath away.

'Shit, I’m sorry about that, doll.’ He rubbed his hand over his beard, his brow furrowed with concern. 'It’s the fucking hormones or something.’

'Right.’ You were struggling to find words, waiting for him to say something else, but he remained silent, his gaze fixed on your face, his worry only increasing. 'What are you doing here, Negan?’

'Oh, I told Lucille I needed to take a leak. Figure I bought us a little time.’ He offered you a forced smile.

'Why would you do that?’

'I just… I guess I wanted to see how you’re doing.’

'I’m okay.’ You tried to sound convincing, to keep the waver of emotion out of your voice.

'You don’t look it.’

'Wow, thanks,’ you smirked at him. 'You sure know how to make a girl feel good about herself.’

'I mean it.’ He stepped towards you, cupping your cheek in his hand so he could study you more closely. 'You look like a fucking ghost.’

'I haven’t been sleeping,’ you confessed, trying to resist the temptation to lean into his touch. 'I’ve had a lot of work to do.’

He nodded, but you could tell he didn’t believe that it was assignments that were keeping you up. 'You look like you haven’t really been eating either, doll?’

'Oh, I’m… I’m on a diet,’ you lied. 'I, er, just wanted to lose a couple of pounds.’

'You don’t need to lose anything, Y/N.’ His look of concern was back and you couldn’t bear it. 'You’re fucking perfect.’

'I… I don’t-’

'Sorry, you’re probably about to go off on me now for saying shit like that to you, right? I know, it’s not fair.'  He sighed.  'God, I’ve missed you.’

'Negan, I-’

'Negan, what are you doing?'  Lucille stepped into view behind her fiancé, her red lips pursed in a sulky pout.  'I thought you were going to the restroom.’

He spun in her direction, running his fingers through his hair as he shifted uncomfortably under her accusatory stare.  'I… I was, kitten.’

'So, what, did you get lost or something?’

Negan stepped away from you, wrapping his arm around Lucille’s waist and pulling her into his side. 'No, I just… I wanted to talk to Y/N for a minute, that’s all.’

She quirked an eyebrow at him, her mouth twisting into a disbelieving smirk.  ‘And what exactly is it that you have to talk about?’

He floundered for a moment, and you could practically see him scraping about in his mind for an appropriate answer, but he recovered quickly.  ‘I was telling her to stay the hell away from us, that’s all.  I’m getting fucking sick of this shit, the fucking hurt little doe eyes she keeps shooting my way.’

You gasped in shock, stung by his words, as he turned back to you, his face shifting into an icy glare.

'Look, what we had, it was fling, okay?  It didn’t mean shit!  All you’re doing now is making yourself look pathetic!’ He lowered his voice, his last words to you coming out as a poisonous sneer.  'You seriously need to move the fuck on, doll.  We’re done here.’

You felt yourself physically recoil, nodding dumbly as he pressed a soft kiss to Lucille’s head and turned to guide her away.  He shot you an apologetic look as he left, but you could barely see it through the sheen of tears that had welled up in your eyes and spilled over, running down your cheeks.

Deep down you knew why he’d said those things, that he’d just been covering his own ass and trying not to cause Lucille any pain, but what about you? Once again you’d fallen victim to his need to give his girl whatever he thought she needed, and you swore that this would be the last time.  It astounded you how much one short conversation had messed you up all over again, sent you flying right back to where you’d been eight weeks ago, completely unable to think about anything but him.

Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you roughly scrubbed away your tears, running your fingers through your hair to loosen it where it had stuck to your damp cheeks. This would be the last time you cried over him, you swore; the last time you let him give you hope and send you crashing back down to earth again. You didn’t need him. You were better off without him. For the first time, a small part of you even believed it.

 

* * *

 

_Now…_

You’d expected to be awake all night after issuing your ultimatum to Negan, but to your surprise you fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.  You’d stuffed the bare essentials into a backpack ready to leave when the time came, instinctively knowing that he wouldn’t be coming back to you.  The stress that you’d felt whilst waiting for him had dissipated, leaving you with a sense of peace.  The worst was over.  You’d said what you needed to say, given him every chance to be with you.  Now, it was time to look after yourself and get the hell out of this place.

When you woke to the sunlight streaming in through your window, you weren’t surprised, and the disappointment that you’d expected to feel didn’t come.  It felt like an ending, and part of you was actually relieved.  As much as you loved him, everything was Negan was always difficult, a battle, and in this world, survival was enough of a battle in itself.  Why make things any harder than they needed to be?  You knew that you could survive on your own, you’d done it before, and since entering the Sanctuary you’d been made aware of multiple communities out there that might welcome you in if you sold yourself well enough.  It wasn’t much of a plan but it was all you had.

You’d showered and changed your clothes, pulling your hair up into a scruffy ponytail, when a quiet knock sounded at your door, and you opened it to see two glamorously dressed women standing before you.

'Mandy, Sherry,’ you greeted them, moving aside and gesturing for them to come in.  'Everything okay?’

Mandy just nodded, her eyes wide, as Sherry reached out a hand to grasp yours. 'I hope you’ve said your goodbyes, Y/N, cos we’re doing this today.’


	29. Chapter 29

You paced the room nervously, waiting for Mandy to fetch you and escort you down to Dwight’s quarters.  Sherry had outlined her plan to you earlier, and you had to admit that it was a good one, just simple enough to actually work.  However, it relied on careful timing, and that put you on edge.  You’d have felt more comfortable making a break for it under the cover of darkness, but Sherry had been right when she’d pointed out that there were more guards on the perimeter at night, and that your chances of getting past them would be slim to none.  During the day, people were coming and going all the time, and most of the community had jobs to focus on.  It was less likely that they’d be noticed, as long as everything went to plan.

You’d packed light, just a change of clothes and a couple of bottles of water, and you were painfully aware that you didn’t have a weapon.  It was vital that you find one as soon as you got outside of the fences, or there was a chance that you wouldn’t even make it through the night.  You were a survivor, sure, but you weren’t invincible, and a gun or a knife would have lifted your confidence considerably.  You certainly didn’t fancy running into a herd of walkers with no way of defending yourself.

A soft knock sounded at your door, and you strode across, yanking it open and breathing a sigh of relief when you saw Mandy there, though your heart rate sped up at the thought of what was to come next.  

‘You ready?’ she asked, her voice hushed as she stepped into the room, her hands visibly trembling as she twisted her fingers together anxiously.  

‘Yeah, I’m good to go,’ you nodded, slinging your pack over your shoulder and taking one last look around the room that had been your home and your prison.  Every single thing in it reminded you of Negan:  you could picture him sitting at the table, twirling spaghetti on his fork as he chatted to you about a new Savior that had shown potential; you could hear him singing loudly in your shower, his voice dropping into a seductive purr when you slipped in behind him, running your fingers down his torso and giggling as the soap swirled patterns into his chest hair; you could feel him crawling into bed beside you, curling up against your back and snaking an arm around your waist to hold you close, his lips ghosting over the sensitive skin behind your ear as he kissed his way down your neck.  For a moment, you wondered if you could really do this, if you were strong enough to walk away and leave him behind, but a gentle cough from Mandy brought you back to your senses and you smiled reassuringly at her.  'Hey, calm down, okay?  You’re not the one sneaking out of here today.’

‘No,’ she agreed.  'But if he ever finds out that we helped you, you can bet your ass there’ll be hell to pay.’

‘I know.’  And you did.  You could imagine Negan’s rage if he ever found out how you’d escaped, and you could appreciate the risk that both she and Sherry were taking.  Realistically, you understood that it was driven more by their desire to get you out of the way so that they could regain their place in Negan’s affections, and perhaps calm his erratic moods, but it didn’t matter to you.  You were getting out of here, and you couldn’t be more grateful for that.  'Thank you.’

'Whatever.  Can we go now?’

'Yep, let’s do this.’

She took a deep breath, turning and slipping back out into the corridor, and you followed her out of the door without looking back.  You descended through the Sanctuary, creeping quietly down the staircases, as you headed to the lower floors.  You’d been surprised, having expected Dwight’s room to be near the top of the building, when Sherry had suggested it as a place to lay low and get Daryl out of his skanky tracksuit, but it turned out that, having fallen out of Negan’s favour, and been put in charge of the breaking of hostages, he’d been assigned a place down in the gloom of the underground levels.  When you reached his door, you found yourself holding your breath as Mandy pushed down on the handle and let it swing slowly open.  She ushered you inside, turning to survey the messy room and wrinkling her nose in disgust.

'You gonna be okay in here?’

'Yep,’ you nodded.  'Gotta be.  It won’t be for long if it all goes to plan.  Are we sure he won’t come back?’

'Who knows.’  Her answer didn’t do anything to settle your anxiety.  'Sherry reckons you’ve got a good few hours.’

'Right.  Great.’

'You remember the signal?’

You nodded again, feeling your stomach knot at the realisation that this was really happening.  You were leaving the Sanctuary today.  'I got it.  Thank you, Mandy, for helping me.  I know we’ve never been close exactly but… I appreciate it, I really do.’

She just smiled at you, and then she was gone, stepping back out into the hallway and leaving you alone.  

You tried to settle, but ended up pacing again, walking circuits of the room as you strained your ears, listening out for any sound in the corridor.  When you’d lapped the room 30 times, you forced yourself to do something productive, and set about searching out some decent clothes for Daryl to change into, knowing his tracksuit would give them away instantly if they were seen by anyone.  You grabbed a grey t-shirt from the top of a mound of laundry, and found a checked shirt hanging on the back of the bedroom door.  You had to rummage under the bed to find a pair of jeans, and felt momentarily guilty for taking what appeared to be Dwight’s only spare pair, but it was short-lived as you figured that, as a Savior, he was sure to have plenty of points to exchange for replacements in the marketplace.  As an afterthought, you snatched a baseball cap that was hooked over the top of a lamp and added it to the pile, deciding that anything that might hide Daryl’s face would be useful.  Even if they ran in to someone who didn’t recognise him, his bruises immediately called attention to him, and that was the last thing you needed.

You’d turned your attention to the little carved figures that were crowded on to Dwight’s table, picking each one up in turn and twisting it between your fingers, studying the detail in the woodwork, when a loud crash sounded from the corridor.   _The signal_.  You flew across the room to the door, holding your breath as you edged it open and peered out into the gloom.  Sure enough, you could see Daryl with his back pressed to the wall, as angry shouts echoed from round the corner.  He looked as if he was about to turn tail and run, so you leant out into the hall and raised an arm to motion for him to come towards you.  You could sense his hesitation, but lack of other choices forced him to do as instructed, and you smiled reassuringly at him as you stepped back to let him join you inside, closing the door as quietly as possible behind him.

'It’s you,’ he grunted, recognising you now that you were out of the shadows.  'Wha’ the hell’s goin’ on?’

'We’re getting out of here,’ you explained quietly, picking up the pile of clothes you’d prepared and shoving it at his chest.  'Put these on, okay, and then I’ll tell you how.’

His brow was furrowed in confusion and uncertainty, but he took the bundle from you and disappeared into the bedroom to change.  

'You hungry?’ you whispered through the door, and took the groan you received in response as a yes.  As you surveyed the room though, you wished you hadn’t asked as there was little food to be had.  When Daryl reappeared, you looked away, slightly ashamed, as you passed him a jar of peanut butter.  'Sorry, that’s all there is.’

He tucked in with relish, coating his fingers in the sticky goop and sucking it down enthusiastically, barely swallowing before he went back for more.  It hurt your heart to see it, but you forced your emotions down, knowing you needed to keep a clear head if you were going to get you both out of here.  

'So, what are we doin’?’ Daryl asked between slurps, and you gave him a tight smile as you began to run through the plan.

'We need to head towards the back of the building, take the stairs up to ground level.  I’ve got it on good authority that the guard will be otherwise occupied elsewhere.  That door will have been jammed open so we can get out and in to the courtyard.’

He nodded slowly as he processed the plan.  'An’ where’d we go from there?’

'Well, that’s where the bikes are parked up,’ you continued, noting the way his eyes sparked at the mention of your getaway transport.  'You know how to ride?’

'Hell yeah.’

'Thank God,’ you sighed, relief washing over you as this to you had been the biggest flaw in the plan.  You’d never ridden a bike before in your life, and wouldn’t it have been just your luck to finally escape these walls just to kill yourself by running headfirst into a tree?  'Okay, so the gate in the back corner is supposed to be manned by Fat Joey today.  They’re going to try and distract him, lure him away with food, but there’s no guarantee he’ll go for it.  Thing with Joey is that he’s not as tough as the others.  If you threaten him, he’ll probably let us go.  He won’t stand up and risk getting hurt to keep us here.’

'But…?’  Daryl has sensed the tension in your voice, and you filled him in on your other major concern.

'But he will raise the alarm as soon as we’re out, so we’ll need to move fast before they manage to load up and come after us.’

He was chewing on his lip now, removing the cap to run a hand through his greasy hair.  'Alright.  Let’s get outta here.’

'Wait!’  A moment of inspiration struck and you hurried back into Dwight’s bedroom, falling to your knees and shimmying under the bed, your hands groping around in the darkness until you struck gold.  You backed up, dragging your find into the light to inspect it and holding up the length of metal pipe for Daryl to see.  

'Only the Saviors are allowed to carry weapons inside the fences, and, if they disgrace themselves at all, they have them taken away.  Simon, my guard, told me that most of them keep some sort of back-up weapon under their beds just in case the worst happens.’

He reached out to take the cool tubing from your grasp, nodding at the weight of it in his hand.  'Well, alrigh’ then.’

You left the room quietly, stealing along the corridors, hugging the walls, and creeping up the stairs.  Daryl was barefoot, having found no shoes in Dwight’s quarters, but your boots were prone to clanging against the metal, so you were forced to tiptoe to minimise the noise.

Sure enough, you found that your route was clear, and breathed a silent thank you to Sherry and Mandy for the work they’d put in to this.  The door was indeed unguarded, and when Daryl leant his weight against it, it opened easily, a wedge of folded card having kept the lock from clicking into place.  You could practically taste freedom as the row of bikes glinted at you in the sunlight, shadowing Daryl as he darted over to them, the pipe swinging at his side.   _We’ve done it_ , your subconscious shrieked.   _We’re as good as out of here._

He was fiddling with the bike at the end of the row, checking it over with expert fingers, when Fat Joey wandered round the corner, a sandwich still clutched in his hand.

'Hello,’ he greeted you unsurely, his face falling when Daryl straightened up, his eyes cold and hard.  

'Woah… Woah…’  He was backing away now, the remains of his lunch falling to the ground as he raised his hands in the air.  'It’s cool, I swear.’

Your eyes flicked to Daryl who was advancing on the Savior, his knuckles white as he gripped his weapon.  

'Buddy, you can walk right out that back gate there and I won’t say anything to anybody.  I’m supposed to be there now but…’   _Yes, just like Sherry had said_.  But Daryl was still stalking towards him, both hands on the pipe now, as his body trembled with pent-up rage.  'Listen, I’m… I’m just trying to get by, just like you.’

You could see the sweat beading on Joey’s forehead, hear the tremor in his voice as he pleaded with you.  'Please.’

Daryl brought the pipe down hard on Joey’s skull, and you let out a desperate whimper at the sound of bone cracking under the impact.  He went down hard, but the attack wasn’t over, as the pipe came down again and again, pounding the Saviors’ head into a mess of gore.  Your stomach heaved at the sight, the smell of blood so intense that you could almost taste it in the back of your throat, and still Daryl kept going.

'Daryl.’  You tore your gaze away from the bloodbath as you heard Daryl’s name being spoken, and were confronted by another man, one you didn’t recognise, though his eyes were as wide in horror as you were sure yours were.

'Daryl,’ he said again, finally getting the pipe-wielder’s attention, as Daryl stepped away from the body, the metal clanging against the ground as tears spilled down his cheeks.

'Who are you?’ you asked eventually when nobody spoke.  'You know each other?’

'I’m Paul Rovia,’ he offered, giving you a forced smile.  'Or Jesus, if you prefer.  Daryl’s a friend to my community.  I came to… Well, to get him out.’

'Already on it,’ you quipped, returning his tense grin.  'Don’t suppose you’ve got a truck with you?’

'No,’ he sighed, shaking his head.  'I caught a lift.’

'Great,’ you muttered, your uneasy feeling increasing.  'Guess we’re stealing two bikes then.  You ride?’

After witnessing the violent murder of Fat Joey, you couldn’t quite bring yourself to climb on behind Daryl and wrap your arms around him, for the first time wavering in your certainty that you were doing the right thing.

'A little,’ he shrugged.  'I mean, I have before… once or twice…’

'Still more than me.’

Voices sounded from inside, though it was impossible to tell if they were coming in your direction, and Jesus sprang in to action.  

'We’ve gotta move.  Daryl,’ he murmured softly, resting a hand on the broken man’s shoulder.  'Come on, we need you to get the bikes running.’

Daryl snapped out of his trance at Jesus’ touch, reaching down to snag Joey’s gun from his waistband and crossing to the bikes, working on them with a natural confidence, and before long the sound of thrumming engines filled the yard.  

The two men mounted the vehicles, wheeling them out of the line as you jogged over to the gate and pulled it open, rolling slowly through and pausing just long enough for you to slide it closed and swing yourself on behind Jesus, gripping him tightly and burying your face in his shoulder so that his long hair wouldn’t whip up into your eyes.

As you tore off down the track, you forced yourself to turn and take one last look at the place where you’d found everything you’d been looking for, before being forced to leave it all behind yet again.  You imagined Negan’s reaction when he realised that you were gone, but the ache in your chest was so great that you quickly pushed the images down, locking them away in the back of your mind until you found somewhere you could call home.

 

* * *

 

The bikes rolled to a halt, and you lifted your head from where it had been pressed against Jesus’ back, stretching stiffly as you took in the high wooden fences in front of you.

'Welcome to Hilltop,’ he announced, as you dismounted, surveying the scene in front of you in awe as the massive gates rolled back to reveal a grand manor house, surrounded by little huts and trailers.  The air had the tang of scent that you associated with farmland, and you revelled in its freshness.

'You’ll be safe here,’ he reassured you as he pushed the bike up the path, followed closely by Daryl who looked like he was on the verge of tears again, the relief of being somewhere safe evident in his expression, but you knew that your journey wasn’t over yet.

'I can’t stay.’  You’d already decided before even leaving the Sanctuary that wherever Daryl was headed back to, you wouldn’t be going with him, and his vicious attack on Fat Joey had only reinforced your desire to take off on your own.

The two men halted in their tracks as they turned to you, confusion writ across their faces.

'I’m sorry,’ you sighed.  'I just… I left the Sanctuary because I didn’t want to be somewhere where it was acceptable to murder people to get what you wanted.  But, if you know Daryl, then that means that this place is somehow connected to the attack on the satellite station and… I’m sorry, but I don’t want to be in a place where that’s okay.’

Jesus nodded slowly, ignoring Daryl who swore behind him.  'I understand.  All I can say is that people do terrible things when they’re  desperate, but I’m sure you know that.  You’ve survived in this world for long enough.’  He exhaled loudly, thinking for a moment before he spoke again.  'Just wait here for a minute, okay?  Let me get Daryl inside and then I’ll come back to you.’

He gestured for Daryl to follow him and walked away, pausing to park the bike up outside one of the trailers, and calling to a young man that was busy sharpening a spear beside one of the huts, 'Harry!  Send word to Alexandria that Daryl is here and safe!’

Left alone, you let the peace of the community wash over you, wondering if you were right in your insistence that you had to leave.  The sense of tranquility here was instantly therapeutic and you could feel the tension leaving your body as you watched the people gardening, children playing with the scattered chickens that wandered over the grass.  But you knew that by leaving the Sanctuary, by leaving Negan, the man you loved more than anything, you’d chosen a life where you didn’t invite violence in.  You had to stick to that decision now.

When Jesus returned, he was holding a wooden crate filled with fruit and vegetables, plus a few tins and some bottled water.  'Come with me.’

You fell into step beside him, eyeing him warily as he led you behind the house to where an array of vehicles were parked erratically in a gravel yard.  He made his way over to a beat-up old pick-up, cracking open the passenger door and depositing the supplies inside.

'What-’

He cut you off by jangling a key in front of your face.  'It’s only got maybe a half tank of gas, but it’s all we can spare.’

'What?’

'Well, you’re not gonna get very far without food and transport,’ he smirked, and you felt your eyes fill with tears at the realisation of what he was offering you.  For the second time that day, you were being given a way out.

'Thank you,’ you breathed, reaching for his hand and squeezing it tight before taking the keys and rounding the truck to climb in behind the wheel.

You slid the key into place, turning it carefully and feeling the engine choke into life, the body rumbling beneath you, as Jesus moved to stand beside the open window, reaching behind him and pulling out a handgun which he placed in your lap, along with a box of bullets.  You opened your mouth to speak but you couldn’t find the words, so you just nodded at him, and put the truck into gear, rolling slowly down the track towards the gate, happy that finally your fate was in your own hands.  Negan crept into your thoughts, and you felt yourself begin to crumble, but you took a deep breath, steeling yourself as you repeated the mantra that you’d come to live by once before and would again.   _I don’t need him_. You knew you had a long way to go, but it was a start.


	30. Chapter 30

_Before…_

Lucille wandered happily around the store, sighing softly as she fondled tiny booties and little cotton sleepsuits.  After weeks of debating, they had finally decided to find out the sex of the baby, and had visited the doctor to be told that they were expecting a boy.  Since then, Negan’s life had been awash with different shades of blue.  Lucille had pored over paint strips trying to decide exactly which shade the nursery should be, pushing him to offer an opinion, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.  He was having a son!  What the fuck did it matter what colour the damn walls were?

His mom had told him it was a natural process for women when they were pregnant, nesting or some shit she’d called it, but to him it all seemed pointless.  He didn’t care about the room, about the clothes, about the buggie, and carry cot, and car seat.  For him it was all about the moment he got to hold his little man in his arms, a tangible reason for everything he’d done over the past few months.  He was still petrified, of course, but he was determined to be a good father, to prove to his absentee shitbag dad that it wasn’t impossible to stick around and raise a fucking family.

As his fiancée browsed, he wandered over to the front of the store, trying to curb his impatience by watching the world pass by through the window, but what he saw caused his breath to hitch in his throat.  Y/N was standing over the other side of the street, chatting to another girl, laughing at something her friend had said, and running her fingers through her hair as a light breeze blew it into her face.  It had been months since he last saw her, and it knocked him for six.   _Fuck, she’s so perfect_.  He moved into the doorway to get a better view, one that wasn’t obstructed by mannequins and floating rubber ducks.

He could go to her, he thought, as he watched her say goodbye and move on, stopping to window shop in a little stationery store that had just opened.  He could just check that she was doing okay, that she was moving on with her life.  Shit, it wasn’t wrong of him to want to know that she was alright, was it?  He stood, poised in the doorway, ready to start across the road and make his presence known, when he heard his name being called from somewhere deep in the rails of baby clothes.  He sighed, looking over his shoulder to see if Lucille was visible, before glancing back to where Y/N had been standing only seconds before, but she was gone.

‘Coming, kitten!’ he hollered, turning to make his way back into the store, ready to offer a forced opinion on a mobile or a shawl or some other overpriced, sentimental shit that she seemed to deem necessary for raising a damn kid.  This was the bed he’d made and it was time to fucking lie in it.  Just a few more weeks, and it would all be worth it.   _Just a few more weeks…_

 

* * *

_Now…_

Gravel spun out from under the wheels of the truck as Negan tore out of the gates.  He’d gone to Y/N that morning to try and explain his decision to her, try to make her see sense, only to find her gone, and, when Daryl was also declared missing, it didn’t take a genius to put two and fucking two together.  His first emotion had been rage, pure and vicious, and he’d found himself instinctively reaching for Lucille, plotting how he was going to take her and smash her into Daryl’s skull, before dragging his girl back where she belonged.  He’d do whatever the fuck it took to keep her there, even if it meant throwing her in a damn cell too.  But then, when the initial flush of anger had receded, all that mattered was that he had to find her.

He started at Alexandria first, knowing it was the place Daryl was mostly likely to run to.  Y/N was smart, too smart to strike out on her own, presumably without any weapons or supplies.  She’d stick with him until she felt safe enough to split off and take her own path.  He could hear shouts of alarm from inside the fences as he rolled up to the gate, and he wasn’t surprised when he was greeted with Rick’s sulky glower when it slid back to grant him access.  His fist clenched around Lucille as he jumped from the truck, giving the community’s leader a cocky grin.  

'I can tell by your reaction that you already know why I’m fucking here, so we’ll just cut right to the chase, shall we?’

'I don’t know what you’re talking about.’  Rick’s southern drawl worked on his last nerve, and he gritted his teeth at the lie that fell so easily from the man’s lips.  He’d have thought the fuckers would have learnt by now that lies got them nowhere.  

'Oh, Rick!’  He shook his head.  'I thought we were past all this shit.’

When he didn’t respond, Negan swung Lucille up over his shoulder, watching as the people around him flinched, but finding himself unable to take his usual pleasure in their fear.  'I seem to have lost my Daryl.  Thought you might know something about that.  You see, he’s disappeared along with someone very very important to me and you can bet your scrawny ass I will get the both of them back by morning, even if I have to turn every fucking house in this place upside down.’

Rick spread his arms nonchalantly as if inviting Negan to proceed, moving back to allow him to pass, but he didn’t follow as Negan stalked up the street, leaving him to search alone.   _The fucker’s not here_.  He spun on his heel, making his way back towards the Alexandrian leader, announcing loudly, 'Actually, fuck this shit.  If it’s me getting my first taste of freedom after a couple of weeks locked  up in a tinyass cell, I ain’t coming here.  I’m heading straight to the Hilltop!  Fresh food, open spaces, the green green fucking grass.  Maybe I’ll pay them a visit and see if they’ve got any new additions to the group.’

He studied Rick intently as he spoke, watching for any indication that he was on the right track, but he didn’t get it from the man before him.  It came from the woman standing a few feet away, just within his peripheral vision, whose whole body tensed up, just for a second, at this announcement.   _The Hilltop it is then_.

He bid the anxious group an enthusiastic farewell as he marched back the the truck, flinging himself inside and taking off back up the road in the direction of the peaceful farming community.  His frustration was only increasing as the time ticked by.  Every minute could be taking Y/N further away from him and he felt the distance like a physical pain.  Could he do it?  Could he walk away and leave his people, leave the Sanctuary behind?  Right now, as he sped along the tree-bordered road, the leaves throwing dappled shadows across the hood, he thought that anything was preferable to living without her.  He should’ve gone to her the previous night as she’d asked.  What the hell did he think he was doing, calling her bluff?  He should’ve known she’d go without him if he let her down!  She knew him of old, knew how he thought, the way his mind worked.  Hell, she probably knew before he did that he’d leave her hanging.  

And then Mandy had come to him, crying over some sleazy comment that one of his men had made about her, telling him she only felt safe when he was near.  His wives needed him, he knew it and her tears had only reconfirmed it for him.  He had to stay for them, didn’t he?  Unless they used him as much as he used them, manipulating him to get what they wanted.  He couldn’t judge them for it - shit, most of them had probably learnt it from him - but everything that had been enough for him before Y/N had reappeared in his life now paled in comparison to the ecstasy he found with her in his arms.

What would happen if he never went back?  Simon would step up to the plate, he was sure of it, but without him keeping a tight rein on his subordinate’s temper, it was likely that there’d be mass bloodshed in any communities that were having trouble towing the line.  Simon didn’t see people as a resource, but as an obstacle, and so he cut them down without thought or remorse.  But was that really his problem?  If the other Saviors didn’t like it, surely they’d soon put him in his place, and from the look on Rick’s face, it wouldn’t be long before he started a war against the Sanctuary, meaning bloodshed was unavoidable in the long-run anyway.  Did he really want to deal with that shit?  Did he have it in him?  He wasn’t getting any younger, and he could feel the ache in his bones some days after a long run.  Maybe Y/N had been right, maybe it was time to walk away.

As the Hilltop came into view, he slipped almost too easily into his game face, wondering when it had begun to feel more comfortable than his actual mellower self.  Did that ease mean that maybe he really was fucking losing himself like she’d told him?  He waited impatiently, drumming his fingers on the wheel as the gate slid slowly to the side to grant him access.  He hadn’t been here before - Simon managed the Sanctuary’s relationship with the Hilltop - but he recognised Gregory immediately from Simon’s description as he approached.

'Well, well, well.'  Negan grinned menacingly, as he climbed out of the truck.  'You must be Gregory.  Boy, have I heard a lot about you?’

'I’m sorry,’ the old man stuttered, holding out his hand as if to shake Negan’s.  'I don’t-’

'Are you about to tell me that you don’t know who the fuck I am?  Oh, Gregory, that shit hurts!  I’ll give you three guesses, how’s that?’

'You’re Negan.’  A steady voice rang out from behind him, and he turned to see a slim, long-haired man, exuding confidence as he stared Negan down.  'I know who you are.’

A part of Negan wanted to take this one down, wanted to beat the serene smile off his face, but he reined in his temper, focusing his mind on the task in hand.  'Then you probably know why I’m here.’

'Jesus, I’ll handle-’ Gregory was cut off again by the mysterious Jesus who seemed to have no regard for his leader.

'There’s nothing here for you.’

'You won’t mind if I take a little stroll then.’

Negan could see the cogs whirring behind the intelligent eyes, an internal argument taking place, before Jesus stepped forward, lowering his tone as he steered him back towards the vehicle.  'Look, I know who you’re looking for.  I’ve seen her.  She was here, but now she’s gone.’

'Where?’  Old habits were leading Negan to want to insist on looking around anyway, noting how Jesus had failed to mention Daryl, meaning he was likely hidden somewhere in one of the huts that bordered the grass, but his need for Y/N took over, and he fixed Jesus with a piercing gaze.  'You better not be fucking lying to me because I will come back here and burn this place to the ground.’

'I’m not lying.  She didn’t want to stay here.  She knew about the attack on the satellite station, and she thought we had something to do with it, so she left.’

'You don’t have to play innocent, Jesus,’ he scoffed.  'I know that the Hilltop and Alexandria are bestest fucking buds these days.  In fact, if I were to take a look around, I’m willing to bet that I’d find that you’re doing something really fucking stupid for them right now, but I don’t give a shit about that anymore.  I just need to find her.’

Jesus sighed, but eventually spoke, his expression strained as though he already carried the weight of his betrayal.  'She’s in a red pick-up.  It’s pretty rundown and it’s only got a half tank of gas.’  He led Negan outside the gate and gestured into the distance.  'One of the guys on guard duty said she headed in that direction.  She probably wouldn’t have got far.’

Negan heard the man beside him swallow loudly, before continuing.  'You’re not gonna hurt her, are you?’

He gave him a sad smile.  'Shit, I already hurt her.  Now, I’ve gotta try and make amends.’

He spun on his heel and headed back towards the truck, pausing to gauge the reaction of those gathered around him, as he hollered, 'Tell Daryl I said hi!’ before swinging himself back up and into the driver’s seat.

He followed the road in the direction that Jesus has indicated, trying to control his speed to avoid missing any signs of her whereabouts, but finding the need to put his foot down and gun it impossible to resist.  He could physically feel the time passing, and each moment away from her felt like he was suffocating.  It was that sensation, the tightness in his lungs, the penetrating ache in his chest, that made his decision, and he realised that it had been inevitable.  The second that he’d left the Sanctuary, oblivious to everything but his urgent need to find her, he’d known in his heart that he wouldn’t return if he tracked her down.

What was the point of protecting people, of saving them in the only way he knew how, if he left the woman he loved to fend for herself in a world that had gone to hell?  He’d lost too many people he loved by letting things happen, by refusing to take control and see what was right in front of him: Lucille, his mom, his little boy.  He couldn’t, wouldn’t, add Y/N to that list.  If he found her, and he had to fucking find her, he wasn’t ever going to let her go again.

Negan knew he’d been driving all night when the sky began to lighten, the first early morning rays of sun dancing over the surface of the road in front of him.  He’d zigzagged back and forth across the highway, taking every turning he came across and driving for a few miles, before turning back and trying another and another.  He’d pounded on the dash, growling her name in frustration, as his mood swung erratically between anger at the wild goose chase he was embarking on, and desperation at the futility of his quest.  She’d only had a half tank of gas, if what the long-haired moron at Hilltop had told him was true, so how the hell had she managed to disappear.  He was on the verge of giving up, minutes away from turning round and driving back to his miserable existence without her, taking on the burden of running the Sanctuary once more, with each day seeming a little longer, a little harder to get through, now that he knew he’d managed to lose her all over again.  And then he saw it, tucked alongside a little rundown cottage set back from the road, half hidden by the overhanging trees that draped across the unkempt garden:  a beat-up, dusty red pick-up truck.   _Y/N_.  

He veered off the road, slamming on the brakes so that the engine cut out with a throaty groan.  She was here, in that house, just meters away from him.  Everything he’d ever wanted was just the other side of that door, and now that he’d finally found her, he was fucking petrified.  What if she rejected him?  What if it was too late?  What if the fact that he’d left everything he’d worked so hard to build behind for her still wasn’t enough somehow?  Shit, he couldn’t bear it if she turned him away now.  It would kill him.  And yet, a spark of hope ignited within him as he pictured her inside, alone, waiting, hoping.  Maybe she was missing him, maybe she was dreaming about him, and she’d open the door and fall into his arms.   _Man the fuck up, Negan_ , he berated himself. _You haven’t driven all fucking night to wimp out of this now.  Get out of the damn car, and go get your woman._

Instinctively, he reached for Lucille where she rested in the passenger seat beside him, before stopping himself.  It didn’t seem right, somehow, to rock up with a weapon named after his late wife slung over his shoulder.  This needed to be a fresh start.  He took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart, before sliding out of the truck, his boots hitting the ground with a quiet thud.  The morning was already warm and bright, promising a beautiful day ahead, and he sucked in another lungful of pure country oxygen, free of the stench of rotten flesh and musty factory that dominated the Sanctuary.  She’d been right all along.  There was more to life.  Shit, there could be a better life, a more simple life.  He just had to reach out and grab it.  

He picked his way across the garden, trying to avoid what may have once been a veggie patch, and made his way up the path to the front door.  He could see what this place could become - the garden tidied up and producing fresh food for them to live on, the windows cleaned so the sunlight could stream in in the mornings.  He would lay beside her, both of them dozy with sleep, warmed by the rays that reflected around the room, and he would brush her hair back from her face so he could lean down and press a soft kiss to her forehead and tell her how much he loved her.  Fuck, how he loved her.  He could see it all so clearly now, and shit, he wanted it more than he’d ever wanted anything in his life.  Another breath to steady his nerves, though the sound of movement from inside had his pulse pounding again, deafening him as it thundered in his ears.  He had to do it.  It was now or never.  

He gathered every ounce of courage he had, all of his regrets of the past and his hope for the future, every moment they’d shared, every fight, every kiss, every touch, powering his movements as he lifted his hand and knocked.  


	31. With Her (Alternate Epilogue 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alternate epilogue 1 of 3.

Negan woke to the gentle sigh of the body sleeping beside him, returning it with his own hum of contentment as he rolled onto his side to spoon against the warm figure, wrapping his arm around her waist and drawing her close.  The morning sun lit the room when his eyes flickered open, the rays dancing over her skin and highlighting her delicate features, and he thought he’d never seen anything so beautiful.  Studying her face calmed him.  If he focused on the slope of her nose, the flush of her cheeks, he could forget for a moment about the things he’d done, about what the world had become. It was a peace that he hadn’t felt for a very long time, too long, and he still couldn’t quite believe that this was now his.  She was now his.  As she began to stir, he nuzzled against her neck, pressing his lips against the sensitive skin behind her ear and grinning at the shiver than ran through her as she shifted nearer to him, bringing their bodies flush together.  He could feel that she was awake now, relishing the moment just as much as he was, and his hold on her tightened.

‘Good morning,’ he whispered, burying his face in her hair and inhaling deeply.  ‘How’d you sleep, doll?’

‘I dreamt about you.’ Her voice was husky, her smile suggestive when she turned to face him, reaching up a hand to tug lightly at his chest hair and smirking at the low growl it elicited from him.

‘Oh yeah.’  He quirked an eyebrow at her, and let his grip on her slip from her waist to the curve of her hip, his fingers kneading her flesh, his touch teasing. ‘Sounds like a good fuckin’ dream.’

‘It was.  I’ll show you.’

And she did, her hands roaming over his body as he let her take control, her eyelids heavy as she gazed up at him, her expression full of love and hunger.

As he lost himself in her kisses, her scent heady and intoxicating, all Negan could think was that he wouldn’t go back to his old life in a million years.  Yeah, it had been hard walking away from the Sanctuary, giving up everything that he’d worked so hard to build, but what he had now brought him more happiness than he had ever thought possible.  What was it about this girl?  He’d been hooked from the start, all those years ago, when she’d been an awkward stranger on his doorstep.  And now…  Now she was his future, and he wasn’t ever going to let her go.  

When he’d found her truck parked up outside the little cottage that was home to them now, he’d been terrified of the response he’d get when he knocked on the door.  Half of him had been convinced that she’d send him straight back to where he’d come from.  She’d left after all:  the Sanctuary, him, them.  She’d left it all behind and decided to make her own way in the world.  And boy, did she not make it fucking easy for him!  She might not have sent him away, but she didn’t exactly welcome him with open arms either, and he couldn’t blame her.  He could tell that she was expecting him to up and leave her at any moment, to decide that he’d made a mistake and go back to his Saviors and his wives, so she kept him at a distance, barely engaging him in conversation let alone anything else. It had been back to square one as far as their relationship was concerned, but Negan had spent the time working on the house, fixing it up and securing it, erecting a fence to keep out the walkers and digging up the old vegetable patch to bring up the fresh soil in the hopes of actually getting something to grow there when the season came.  

He thought it was probably that that had won her over in the end, got her talking, slowly letting him in.  He wouldn’t be wasting his time on the task if he didn’t intend to stay, to plant the crops and watch them grow.  Gradually they became friends again, talking long into the nights, laughing together on the worn, sagging couch as the darkness drew in and another day ended.  And then suddenly they became more.

She’d kissed him in the middle of the garden one evening as the sun was setting and it had felt like the first time for both of them.  In the movement of her lips on his he sensed hope for the tomorrows he knew they’d share and he realised he was excited for the future for the first time in a really fucking long time.

Since then, he’d woken up every morning this way, in a tangle of limbs, to the sound of her breathing.  And every morning she would roll onto his chest and they would make slow, lazy love until they were both awake enough to face the day, just waiting until they could crawl back into bed and tumble over the precipice together again.  It was a simple existence but it was just theirs.  She was his oxygen and he was her nourishment, and this wasn’t just surviving anymore.  It was living.  He knew he’d found his place in the world – the old world, the new world – and that it was with her.  It had always been, would always be, with her.


	32. Without Her (Alternate Epilogue 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alternate epilogue 2 of 3

The meeting had finished hours ago, his men dispersed to carry out their assigned tasks, the long table bare and unoccupied, but still Negan didn’t move.  What had they even spoken about?  He wasn’t sure.  He was certain he’d agreed some suggestions, issued some orders, but he didn’t care enough about any of them to warrant trying to pay attention.  He had good lieutenants that ensured that things kept running as they should and he knew they were picking up his slack, but it was only a matter of time before they called him on it and then there’d be the inevitable battle for control.  Just the thought of it made him feel old and worn out and he wondered why he was even bothering.  His lust for the fight had gone out of him at the same time that a solid wooden door had slammed in his face.  He had nothing worth fighting for anymore.  Why had he even come back here?  If he was honest with himself, he knew it was because he didn’t have anywhere else to go.  This place, his mission, his people… They meant nothing to him now.

He was just so tired. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept.  Probably the last time he’d had her beside him.  Reaching for her in the night had quieted his doubts and fears, but now the darkness gave them free rein to scream inside his head, shrill and deafening, until he was forced to engage the services of one of his wives to silence them and distract his haunted mind.  He remembered once taking real and perverse pleasure in the ladies that had accepted the luxuries that the Sanctuary had to offer in return for allowing him to make use of them whenever he got the urge, but now they just seemed… dull.  They were a warm body to crash in to.  A means to an end.  They weren’t her.  They didn’t even compare.   And when he’d grown weary of attempting to feel something, anything, he’d dismiss them with a wave of his hand and try not to let the indignant pouts that would blossom on their faces grate on him.  What had he ever seen in them?  They didn’t know him.  They didn’t give a shit about anything other than ensuring their own comfort.  Half of them had probably broken his rules and fucked half his Saviors while his back was turned, and yet he didn’t bother to dish out punishments.  They no longer brought him any satisfaction.

He tried to picture her, to bring his mind some comfort – her laugh, her smile, the way she looked when she slept – but all he could see was the anger on her face when she’d sent him away.  What had he been fucking thinking?  She’d left, walked away from him and from everything he represented, and he’d pursued her, hunted her down and ambushed her on her doorstep, pleading with her to forgive him and let him in.  But he’d hurt her too many times, let her down, messed her around, and she had nothing left to give him.

‘I can’t keep doing this, Negan!’ she’d snarled through gritted teeth, even as the tears streamed down her cheeks.  ‘I can’t keep being your distraction!  If you want to be a good man, then be a good man!  Don’t make me your reason because I can’t be that for you anymore!’

‘That’s not what I’m fuckin’ doing here, doll,’ he’d insisted, trying to find the right words to convince her that he was sincere.  ‘I’m not trying to be a good man.  I’m trying to be your man.  I love you.’

‘That doesn’t matter!’

‘Of course it matters!’

‘No, it doesn’t!’  She was fisting her hair in her hands, her skin flushed with anger as she tried to keep her voice steady.  ‘It might have mattered if you’d realised this last night, but you didn’t!  I asked you to leave with me, and you just walked away!’

‘I needed to fuckin’ think!  You have no idea what you were asking!’

‘I was asking you to put me first!  But you’ve never been able to do that, have you?’  Her shoulder slumped as the fight went out of her, and she let her hands fall to her sides.  ‘There’s always something more important, isn’t there?  Lucille, your wives, your Saviors…  I’m never going to come first with you.’

‘You’re coming first now.’ He felt like he was begging her, like he couldn’t bear it if she sent him away.  ‘I’m here, aren’t I?  I’ve spent all night searching for you, and I found you, so I’m asking you to give this a try.’

‘I don’t think I can.’

‘But-‘

‘I’m sorry, Negan.  I am.  I love you so much.  I’ve loved you for over ten years and I don’t think I even know how to stop, but I’ve gotta try, because this… us… it’s killing me.  I can’t do it anymore.’

‘Y/N…’  But he didn’t have anything left to offer her.  He was giving her all he had, and she didn’t want it.  He’d blown it, big time, and he waited for the pain to take hold, but it didn’t.  He didn’t feel anything.

He’d been numb ever since.  He reached out for the baseball bat that lay on the table in front of him and pressed his finger against one of the barbs of wire that wrapped around the wood, watching as it penetrated his skin and a drop of blood oozed out, but he felt nothing.

‘Boss, you’re needed in the warehouse.’  Simon’s voice broke him out of his reverie, and he pushed himself to his feet, wiping the blood on his trousers and grasping Lucille, swinging her up to rest against his shoulder as he strode across the room.  He used to take pleasure in this, in being needed, in being in control, but now it was just another thing in the long list of chores that he had to do: get up, eat, work, try to sleep.  It was monotonous and it was meaningless and it was eating away at him now he’d had a glimpse of something better.  But he was trapped in this nightmare, in a world in the shadows of what could have been, doomed to live out his days in this dark concrete hell without her.


	33. Alone (Alternate Epilogue 3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alternate epilogue 3 of 3.

The whiskey burned Negan’s throat as he took another sip, the hand that held the glass shaking and sending the amber liquid sloshing up the sides.  It had been a lucky find, stashed away at the back of a cupboard in the kitchen of the small cottage, covered in dust but still half full.  He’d been avoiding it until now, always saving it for a day when the pain was too unbearable to go on, waiting for it to get worse which it inevitably did.  Every morning it got harder to drag himself out of bed, and every evening he fell back into it and sobbed into his pillow until he slipped into unconsciousness.  How had he been reduced to this?  The pain was all-encompassing, his grief suffocating, and it felt like it was eating away at everything he was, everything he had ever been, until all that was left was an empty shell.

He’d been so full of hope.  Hope for a new life, a new start, with his girl at his side.  No more responsibility, no more saving anyone, no more gruesome punishments.  Just him and her.  That was all that really mattered anyway, wasn’t it?  It should have been all that mattered from the start.  He could still remember the first time he saw her, red-faced and panting from dragging her suitcase from her car, stumbling over her words as she introduced herself, a shy, awkward slip of a girl.  But she’d become his whole world.  He let her down so many times, too many times, but he always felt as though there would be a tomorrow for them, another chance.  He’d been stunned when she’d turned up at the Sanctuary, unprepared, and yet somehow it made perfect sense to him.  They belonged together.  If only it hadn’t taken him so damn long to figure out that that meant putting her first and letting all the other bullshit slide.

And now…  Now there was no more tomorrow.

There was just grief and misery and loneliness.

If only he could go back in time and turn himself away from the door of that damn cottage, stopped himself from knocking, his heart leaping with hope when he heard movement from inside.  He could have gone back to his life, his people, and lived with his what if’s, imagined her sitting in the little garden, content with her lot.

But no, he had knocked.  And he’d heard the movement.  And when the body had slammed into the door, its fingernails scraping against the wood he’d believed that his girl had been hiding inside somewhere, waiting for him to save her, and he’d kicked the door in, sending the creature flying backwards.

Except it wasn’t a creature.  It was her.  Except it wasn’t her.  Because her eyes were yellowed and unfocused, and her jaws were snapping ravenously at his ankles as he stood over her, her arms wrapping around his calf as she tried to drag herself closer to him.

No.

Not his girl.

Not like this.

He shoved her away, keeping her down, planting his foot in the centre of her chest to force her to still her writhing movements as he studied her, taking in every detail.  She was so familiar and yet so different now.  Dead.  The red that soaked through her shirt betraying the location of the bite that had killed her, turned her into this freakish thing. 

He’d been in this position once before.  He’d seen Lucille become one of these monsters, and he’d been too goddamn scared to do anything about it.  He’d sent some poor kid to put her out of her misery.  But he couldn’t do that now.  He wouldn’t.  He wouldn’t fail Y/N like he had his wife.

He drew the knife he had tucked into his belt, flinching when the blade reflected the last rays of the setting sun as they streamed in through the open doorway.  He couldn’t do this.  He couldn’t…  But he had to.

He released his hold on her, dropping to his knees and keeping her at arm’s length as she reached for him again, his gaze roaming over her face, searching for a sign of recognition, anything that might mean this was all a horrible fucking mistake.  But it didn’t work that way.

‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered, though he knew she couldn’t understand.  ‘I’m so fucking sorry, doll.’

And then he did it.  The blade slid into her skull and she collapsed onto him, the force knocking him backwards, and he sunk to the floor with her cradled in his arms, rocking her back and forth as the grief overwhelmed him.

He’d found the walker that got her, dead in the kitchen.  He got a small amount of satisfaction at the thought that she had at least gone down fighting, but it was short lived.  He’d burned one body and buried the other, and now he was stuck here, unable to leave her.  He knew his position at the Sanctuary would be filled quickly, that he was probably barely missed, but he didn’t give it much thought.  It wasn’t an option.  This was his punishment, his penance for all of the pain he’d caused and the lives he’d taken.  He was doomed to spend the rest of his life walking these rooms, haunted by the ghost of the girl who could have given him everything.  He could have been happy.  He could have been loved.  Instead, he was simply alone.


End file.
